Cibrarp  of  'the  theological  ^eminarjp 

PRINCETON  • NEW  JERSEY 
PRESENTED  BY 

Delavan  L.  Pierson 

T2S4-85 

.K2T98 


/Jt  & 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


https://archive.org/details/kashmirinsunligh00tynd_0 


KASHMIR  IN  SUNLIGHT  & SHADE 


Photo  by] 


Mulbe  Monastery 


[G.  W Millais. 


A Lama  on  the  look-out, 


vr  f 


KASHMIR 

IN 

SUNLIGHT  & SHADE 

A DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  BEAUTIES  OF  THE 
COUNTRY,  THE  LIFE,  HABITS  AND  HUMOUR 
OF  ITS  INHABITANTS,  AND  AN  ACCOUNT 
OF  THE  GRADUAL  BUT  STEADY 
REBUILDING  OF  A ONCE  DOWN- 
TRODDEN PEOPLE 


BY 

C.  E.'tYNDALE  BISCOE,  M.A.(Cantab.) 

AUTHOR  OF  ‘‘MEN  IN  THE  MAKING,”  IS’c. 


WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION  BY 

Major-Gen.  L.  C.  DUNSTERVILLE,  C.B.,  C.S.I. 

AUTHOR  OF  “THE  ADVENTURES  OF  THE  DUNSTER  FORCE.” 


WITH  28  ILLUSTRATIONS  &•  A MAP 


PHILADELPHIA 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 

LONDON:  SEELEY,  SERVICE  <£•  CO.  LTD. 
1922 


INTRODUCTION 


of  many  years  may  perhaps 


as  a worker.  His  reluctance  to  undertake  the  task,  the 
outcome  of  natural  modesty,  was  with  difficulty  overcome, 
and  I gladly  seized  the  opportunity  which  was  offered 
to  me,  of  prefacing  his  lively  account  of  Kashmir  and 
its  people  with  a few'  words  which  may  perhaps  be 
inadequate,  but  at  any  rate  are  actuated  by  sincere 
feelings  of  the  deepest  regard  and  highest  admiration. 

My  natural  tendency  is  to  employ  the  space  at  my 
disposal  in  a eulogy  of  the  author  and  his  methods,  but 
I know  him  well  enough  to  feel  that  he  would  wish  to  be 
spared  my  superlatives,  and  I will  leave  it  to  the  readers 
to  express  their  own  feelings.  Having,  however,  known 
him,  and  the  land  in  which  he  w’orks,  for  so  many 
years,  and  having  had  many  first-hand  opportunities  of 
admiring  his  system,  I must  allow  myself  just  a few' 
words  to  introduce  this  apostle  of  cheerful  and  happy 
Christianity  to  those  of  the  public  wffio  may  not  know' 
him. 

“ In  all  things  be  men  ” sums  up  the  fundamental  idea 
in  his  teaching  of  Christianity,  for  true  manliness  entails 
virtue  and  rejects  vice. 

A born  optimist,  wffio  regards  dangers  and  difficulties 
as  so  many  hurdles  to  give  the  racer  the  pleasure  of 
leaping,  a strong,  forceful  character  with  unshakable 
ideals  and  an  unswerving  determination  to  move  without 


give  me  authority  to  express  my  admiration  for 
the  author  of  the  present  volume  as  a man  and 


7 


Introduction 

hesitation  towards  those  ideals,  a striver  with  a strong 
sense  of  humour  and  good  sportmanship,  and  an  indomit- 
able courage,  both  moral  and  physical ; such  are  briefly 
the  traits  that  have  enabled  this  indefatigable  missionary 
to  realise  the  remarkable  success  that  has  attended  his 
lifelong  efforts. 

Although  it  is  not  the  case  that  a large  proportion  of 
his  pupils  have  definitely  decided  to  accept  Christ,  it  is 
nevertheless  beyond  doubt  that  the  majority  of  his  staff 
and  boys  leave  the  school  having  learnt  to  lead  lives  more 
nearly  following  the  teaching  of  Christ  than  those  of 
many  professing  Christians. 

As  an  instance  of  this  I give  the  following  example 
which  I have  not  hitherto  told  to  Mr  Tyndale  Biscoe. 

I was  walking  with  a rather  corpulent  companion  in 
Kashmir  some  years  ago  when  we  came  to  a small  stream 
about  ten  yards  across  and  about  two  feet  deep.  I had 
on  rough  shooting  boots  and  putties,  and  I do  not  mind 
getting  my  feet  wret,  so  I crossed  without  further  ado. 
My  friend,  however,  disliked  wet  boots  and  looked  about 
for  some  way  out  of  the  dilemma.  A rather  frail-looking 
Kashmiri  arrived  at  this  juncture,  and  my  heavy  friend 
suggested  in  rather  rough  language  that  he  should  act 
as  a beast  of  burden  and  convey  his  bulky  form  over 
the  water.  Without  hesitation  the  Kashmiri  obeyed 
the  request,  crouching  before  the  heavy  gentleman  to 
enable  the  latter  to  place  himself  comfortably  on  his 
shoulders.  With  legs  rather  bending  beneath  his  burden 
the  docile  carrier  crossed  the  stream  and  placed  my 
companion  dry-shod  on  the  opposite  bank. 

Translating  his  gratitude  into  pecuniary  form  the 
Englishman  offered  a silver  coin  to  the  late  beast  of 
burden  and  was  surprised  to  receive  the  following  answer 
in  very  good  English: — “No,  thank  you,  sir.  1 am  one 

8 


Introduction 


of  Mr  Tyndale  Biscoe’s  masters  and  I am  glad  to  have 
helped  you.” 

I have  never  seen  anyone  so  dumbfounded  as  my 
friend,  and  as  we  continued  our  walk  he  appeared  to 
me  to  be  thinking  rather  deeply. 

Readers  of  this  book  will  notice  that  it  is  one  of 
Mr  Tyndale  Biscoe’s  characteristics  to  reach  his  objective 
by  the  most  direct  means  possible,  ignoring  or  brushing 
aside  all  obstacles  as  of  small  moment  so  long  as  he 
does  attain  his  goal. 

L.  C.  Dunsterville, 

M ajor-  General. 


The  Cronk, 

Port  St  Mary, 
1921. 


9 


/ 


AUTHOR’S  NOTE 


I MUST  express  my  thanks  to  my  headmaster,  Mr 
Shanker  Pandit,  B.A.,  who  has  allowed  me  to  draw 
upon  his  knowledge  of  the  ancient  history  of 
Kashmir,  and  of  the  various  rites  and  ceremonies,  both 
of  Hindus  and  Mohammedans,  with  respect  to  birth, 
death,  marriage,  etc.  What  my  friend  Shanker  does 
not  knowr  concerning  his  country  is  not  worth  knowing. 

Mr  R.  E.  Shorter,  photographer  in  Sialkote  and 
Kashmir,  has  most  generously  placed  the  whole  of  his 
huge  collection  of  photos  at  my  disposal,  and  a beautiful 
collection  it  is,  the  work  of  many  years. 

Mr  Geoffrey  Millais,  the  son  of  the  late  Sir  John 
Millais,  R.A.,  who  inherits  the  talents  of  his  father  for 
making  pictures,  also  Vishn  Nath  Pandit,  the  first  Kashmiri 
to  start  a photographic  business,  and  my  brother,  George 
Tyndale  Biscoe,  have  given  me  their  permission  to  make 
use  of  any  of  their  photographs,  and  I thank  them 
most  sincerely  for  their  kindness. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

My  First  Journey  into  Kashmir 

PAGE 

17 

CHAPTER  II 

Beautiful  Secluded  Valleys 

39 

CHAPTER  III 
The  Towns  in  the  Valley 

55 

CHAPTER  IV 

The  Kashmiris  . ...  . 

. 60 

CHAPTER  V 

Kashmir,  Ancient  and  Modern  . 

67 

CHAPTER  VI 

Character  of  the  Kashmiris 

77 

CHAPTER  VII 
Mohammedans  and  Hindus 

95 

CHAPTER  VIII 
Mosques,  Temples  and  Shops 

• i‘3 

CHAPTER  IX 

Streets  and  Bazaars  .... 

119 

CHAPTER  X 

Trades,  Lepers  and  Beggars 

1 26 

CHAPTER  XI 

Fashions  in  Dress  ..... 

• x37 

CHAPTER  XII 

Brahmans  and  Sadhus  .... 

142 

13 


Contents 


CHAPTER  XIII 


Hindu  Customs  ..... 

PAOB 

153 

CHAPTER  XIV 

Boat-Building  ..... 

. 169 

CHAPTER  XV 

Expeditions  ..... 

. 182 

CHAPTER  XVI 

A Trip  to  Ladakh  .... 

197 

CHAPTER  XVII 
A Trip  to  Ladakh  ( continued ) 

. 210 

CHAPTER  XVIII 
A Trip  to  Ladakh  (continued) 

216 

CHAPTER  XIX 
Kashmir  Medical  Mission 

234 

CHAPTER  XX 

Education  ...... 

• 253 

CHAPTER  XXI 
A Kashmir  Mission  School 

. 260 

CHAPTER  XXII 

A Kashmir  Mission  School  ( continued ) . 

. 272 

CHAPTER  XXIII 

A Kashmir  Mission  School  ( continued ) . 

ON 

CO 

w 

CHAPTER  XXIV 

A Kashmir  Mission  School  ( continued ) . 

299 

Index  ...... 

. 310 

14 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Mulbe  Monastery 

. . Frontispiece 

Nanga  Parbat 

. 

PAGB 

56 

A Village  Industry 

. 

62 

Pilgrims  Returning  from  the  Mountains 

. 

63 

A Canal  in  the  Dal  . 

. 

84 

The  Common  Task  of  Women 

. 

96 

Women  Water-Carriers 

. 

96 

Leaving  School 

. 

97 

Enemies  of  the  Gods 

• 

97 

Fateh  Kadal  .... 

”4 

ILR.H.  the  Maharajah’s  Soldiers  of  the  Old  Army  . 
Fishing  on  the  Jhelum  . 

Saffa  Kadal  .... 


i5 


1 20 


List  of  Illustrations 


PAGE 


Milkmen  bound  for  the  City  .... 

A Brahman  Woman  ..... 

A Brahman  Marriage  .... 

Women  at  the  Mill  and  Spinning-Wheel 
One  of  the  Three  Glaciers  at  Sona  Marg 
Four  Ladies  of  Ladakh  .... 

A Buddhist  Abbot  and  his  Chelas  or  Pupils 
Lamayuru  Monastery  .... 

Floating  Gardens  on  the  Dal 

High  Street  at  Leh  ..... 

A Winter  Scene  ..... 
Lama  Actors  in  their  Religious  Flays 
The  Frances  Aberigh  Mackay  Memorial  School  for  Girls 
Men  in  the  Making  ..... 

A Ghat  at  the  C.M.S.  Girls’  School 


J34 

144 

160 

160 

161 

206 

2 1 2 

218 

219 

222 

223 

224 

I25 

225 

262 


A School  Regatta 


16 


263 


KASHMIR 

IN  SUNLIGHT  & SHADE 

CHAPTER  I 

MY  FIRST  JOURNEY  INTO  KASHMIR  IN  189O 

WE  have  for  the  last  thirty  hours  been  well 
shaken  in  the  mail  train  from  Karachi,  our 
port  of  disembarkation,  and  are  now  amidst 
the  salt  range  nearing  Rawal  Pindi ; the  engine  is  puffing 
and  snorting,  sending  out  volumes  of  smoke  and  sparks 
in  its  endeavour  to  drag  its  heavy  load  up  the  zigzags, 
through  these  bare,  rugged  red  hills  mounting  up  ever 
higher  and  higher.  The  country  has  been  cut  up  into 
most  curious  castle-like  shapes  and  in  the  dusk  you  fancy 
yourself  passing  through  an  uninhabited  and  bombarded 
city.  These  steep  nullahs  and  gullies  have  been  carved 
and  scoured  out  by  the  heavy  rain  of  the  monsoons.  At 
last  as  we  round  a sharp  corner  our  attention  is  attracted 
to  a most  wonderful  silver  line  touched  here  and  there 
with  various  colours,  such  colours  as  we  have  never  before 
seen,  and  as  we  try  to  unravel  the  mystery  we  suddenly 
become  aware  that  we  are  looking  at  the  sunrise  upon  the 
everlasting  snows  of  the  Himalayas;  we  just  drink  in  to  the 
full  that  which  we  cannot  describe  in  words,  a sight  never 
to  be  forgotten,  and  every  time  we  see  this  heavenly  vision 
of  purity  the  same  indescribable  thrill  goes  through  one. 

Daylight  comes  on  apace,  and  we  soon  notice  our 
travelling  companions  fastening  up  their  bedding  (for  in 
India  we  always  carry  about  our  bedding  with  us)  and 
b 17 


My  First  Journey  into  Kashmir 

putting  their  traps  in  order,  which  warns  us  that  we  are 
nearing  Rawal  Pindi.  And  now  conies  the  town  in  sight, 
with  its  streets  of  white,  flat-roofed  houses  and  towers, 
Mohammedan  white-domed  mosques  and  minarets  and 
shining  Hindu  temples.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  train 
we  see  white  tents  and  barracks,  which  show  us  that  we 
are  at  one  of  the  great  military  stations  of  North  India. 
The  name  tells  us  that  it  is  a village  of  satyrs,  pen  = 
village,  Rawal = semi-demi-god. 

As  the  train  draws  up  at  the  long  platform  with  its 
usual  jerks  and  squeaks,  half-naked  men  are  to  be  seen 
rushing  about,  wildly  gesticulating,  hither  and  thither,  for 
are  they  not  passengers  who  have  been  sitting  about  the 
station-yard  since  last  night  in  hopes  of  finding  room  in 
the  cattle  pens,  or  third-class  carriages,  for  the  compart- 
ments are  divided  by  iron  bars  and  there  is  no  glass  in  the 
windows  ? Most  of  them  seem  to  have  with  them  all  their 
earthly  possessions,  piles  on  their  heads  and  under  their 
arms,  with  a child  or  two  thrown  in ; they  no  sooner  shove 
their  way  half  through  the  carriage  door  than  they  are 
pushed  out  again  by  those  inside,  a most  entertaining 
sight.  Policemen  clothed  in  blue  tunics  and  yellow  pants 
add  to  the  row  and  amusement  by  pulling  or  shoving 
those  would-be  travellers  in  or  out  of  the  carriages  as  it 
seemeth  good  in  their  own  eyes.  Some  of  them  make 
quite  a good  thing  out  of  these  pushings  and  shovings. 

One  night  at  Amritsar  station  I was  waiting  for  a train, 
so  could  give  my  undivided  attention  to  those  yellow- 
breeched  gentlemen.  One  man  in  particular  had  attracted 
my  attention  by  his  energy  in  the  push-and-shove  game, 
and  as  Easterns  do  not  usually  do  things  for  nothing,  I 
watched  him  quietly.  He  was  apparently  now  resting 
from  his  labours  and  was  leaning  with  his  back  against  a 
sardine-packed  cattle-pen  carriage.  One  hand  was  twiddling 

1 8 


My  First  journey  into  Kashmir 

his  moustache,  that  was  certain,  but  it  was  the  other  hand 
that  I could  not  see  which  was  of  interest  to  me. 

I strolled  quietly  up  and  down  the  platform  near  this 
carriage  and  soon  discovered  his  little  game,  for  those 
passengers,  who  happened  to  be  Jhats  (Sikh  farmers),  were 
all  engaged  in  untying  the  corners  of  their  puggarees  and 
taking  therefrom  silver  coins  and  placing  them  in  that 
greedy,  grasping,  open  hand ; then  if  the  stream  of  coins 
ceased  a quiet  turn  of  the  head  of  this  arm-of-the-law 
and  a hungry,  hurry-up-quick  eye,  or  the  word  “ Jaldi ! ” 
(“Quick  ! ”)  hissed  between  his  teeth,  set  the  silver  stream 
flowing  again. 

I thought  that  this  fine  person  might  like  to  see  that 
two  could  play  the  same  game,  so  I quietly  came  up  beside 
him  and  leant  against  the  carriage  at  the  open  window 
and,  like  him,  with  a careless,  bored  expression  on  my  face, 
twiddled  my  moustache  with  my  left  and  thrust  my  right 
hand  with  open  palm  inside,  and,  like  him,  shot  in  a hungry, 
fierce  glance  upon  those  patient  and  frightened  Zemindars. 
The  officer  of  law  and  order  was  amazed  at  my  action,  and 
looked  at  me  from  my  sola  topi  (sun-hat)  to  my  boots, 
and  then  quietly  walked  away,  very  uneasily  twiddling  his 
moustache  with  both  hands,  and  when  he  had  got  amongst 
the  crowd  he  turned  round  to  see  this  extraordinary  sight, 
a sahib  looting  the  poor. 

I took  no  notice  of  him,  but  continued  to  act  the  Indian 
constable.  Then  I quietly  withdrew  my  hand  from  the 
window  and  put  the  money  that  I had  taken  into  my 
pocket  as  he  had  done,  and  walked  away  in  the  opposite 
direction.  I then  turned  round  and  came  back  to  the 
carriage  and  returned  the  money  and  thanked  the  Jhats 
for  their  kindness.  They  first  of  all  were  astounded  and 
looked  at  one  another  for  an  explanation  of  this  extra- 
ordinary proceeding.  Then  as  I salaamed  to  them  and 

19 


My  First  Journey  into  Kashmir 

laughed,  they  saw  it  was  a joke,  and  they  all  laughed 
timidly  at  first,  and  then  as  the  crowd  which  had  assembled 
in  front  of  the  carriage  saw  the  joke  also,  they  all  roared 
with  laughter,  and  scores  of  eyes  were  upon  the  red,  blue 
and  yellow  constable,  who  was  glad  to  escape.  I could 
tell  you  scores  of  similar  yarns,  but  I just  tell  this  one  to 
show  how  the  natives  oppress  one  another  when  they  get 
a chance,  and  to  show  what  enormous  difficulties  confront 
the  English  police  officers  in  their  Herculean  efforts  to 
administer  justice  in  India.  There  is  a certain  class  of 
politician  who  is  continually  trying  to  belittle  the  work  of 
the  British  officer  and  bringing  scorn,  as  they  think,  upon 
our  administration  in  India  by  showing  up  the  evil  practices 
of  the  Indian  police,  but  those  who  know  India  at  all  know 
that  these  revelations  only  go  to  show  still  more  the  need 
of  more  Englishmen  to  prevent  the  Indian  bullying  his 
brother.  Englishmen  have  their  faults,  and  plenty  of 
them,  but  it  is  not  in  their  line  to  oppress  and  bully  the 
poor  and  defenceless,  thank  God  ! 

Well,  here  we  are  drawn  up  at  Pindi  station  and 
passengers  are  calling  for  coolies  to  carry  their  luggage ; 
there  they  are,  a host  of  them  ready  to  carry  a minimum 
of  luggage  for  a maximum  of  bakshish,  each  man  choosing 
the  lightest  load,  which  he  puts  on  to  his  head,  or  gets 
his  pal  to  help  him  up  with.  To  the  new-comer  all  this 
is  most  entertaining  and  amusing,  and  he  forgets  about 
his  own  baggage  as  he  watches  the  comic  operas  around 
him. 

In  my  compartment  is  a political  officer  who  understands 
his  Eastern  brother  well,  and  in  consequence  has  coolies 
in  plenty  to  pick  up  his  loads  when  other  passengers  are 
shouting  “coolie”  in  vain.  The  trick  is  quite  simple.  In- 
stead of  calling  “ Coolie  ider  ao  ! ” in  an  angry  tone,  you  say 
“Ider  ao  turn  badmash ! ” (“  Come  here,  you  blackguard  ! ”) 


20 


My  First  Journey  into  Kashmir 

iu  a firm  voice,  with  a spice  of  jocularity  thrown  in  and  a 
twinkle  in  your  eye,  and  give  the  men  a good  smack  on 
their  backs  as  they  bend  to  lift  your  loads,  then  you  will 
have  as  many  coolies  as  you  desire.  I have  always  been 
most  grateful  to  this  officer  for  teaching  me  this  trick, 
which  has  stood  me  in  good  stead  all  through  my  pilgrimage 
in  this  wonderful  and  amusing  country. 

Our  Eastern  brother  is  a naturally  good-tempered  and 
easy-going  gentleman,  who  responds  to  pleasant  and  cheery 
treatment.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  you  lose  your  temper 
with  him  you  will  never  get  willing  service  and  often 
have  unnecessary  trouble.  Treat  the  Indian  well  and  you 
will  never  find  better  servants  or  more  trusty  friends. 

Whilst  I am  drinking  in  these  new  experiences  and 
enjoying  this  lively  scene  of  hurtlings  and  jabberings,  a 
cleanly  dressed  man  with  a bright  red  waistband  forces 
his  way  through  the  crowd  and  puts  a letter  in  my  hand  ; 
it  comes  from  the  army  chaplain  of  Rawal  Pinai,  inviting 
me  to  put  up  with  him  according  to  the  usual  custom  of 
Anglo-Indian  hospitality,  to  make  his  home  my  home  for 
as  long  as  I like,  and  to  trust  myself  and  belongings  to  his 
servant’s  guiding. 

Coolies  soon  have  all  my  packages  poised  on  their  heads 
and  we  all  march  in  stately  fashion  out  of  the  station, 
where  we  see  hackney  carriages  of  all  sorts,  from  the  first- 
class  pair-horsed  landau  called  “ feton  ghari  ” at  one 
rupee  per  hour  to  the  tw'o-wrheeled  bamboo  cart  at  three 
annas  per  hour.  I select  a second-class  four-wheeler 
called  a “ tikka  ghari,”  which  is  somewhat  similar  to  a 
London  growler  in  shape,  but  it  is  drawn  by  a pair  of  lean 
ponies.  A London  four-wheeler  is  not  in  it  for  shaking 
and  rattling.  The  Indian  sun  has  cracked  and  warped  the 
wood  so  that  nothing  fits,  hence  it  is  impossible  for  two 
persons  to  carry  on  a conversation  inside  it. 


My  First  Journey  into  Kashmir 

The  luggage  is  soon  hoisted  on  the  top,  and  now  comes 
the  paying.  Like  all  new-comers,  I pay  the  coolies  too 
much,  and  then  trouble  or  amusement  begins.  The 
coolies  look  at  the  coins  and  say,  like  the  London  cabby, 
“ What  is  this  ? ” and  crowd  round  me  demanding  more  pay. 
The  chaplain’s  servant  comes  to  my  rescue  and  drives  them 
off,  and  they  depart  grinning  and  jabbering  in  their  delight 
at  having  looted  a foreigner.  Our  Jehu  starts  off  at  the 
gallop  and  keeps  his  pair  at  that  pace  for  most  of  the  way 
by  free  use  of  the  whip  and  tongue,  as  he  squats  cross- 
legged  on  the  box.  At  the  bungalow  of  the  Padre  Sahib 
I,  a perfect  stranger,  am  greeted  as  if  I were  an  old  friend, 
with  every  possible  kindness.  The  first  thing  suggested  is 
the  bath,  for  every  bedroom  has  a bathroom  attached,  and 
soon  I hear  the  swish  of  water  as  it  comes  pouring  out  of 
the  goatskin  or  “ mushak  ” carried  by  the  indispensable 
water-carrier,  “ bhishti,”  or  heavenly  man,  which  he  verily 
is  in  this  sun-baked  land.  As  soon  as  I am  clean  and 
refreshed  my  host  comes  in  to  say  that  he  trusts  I have 
come  for  a long  stay,  at  any  rate  I must  not  think  of  mov- 
ing on  at  present,  as  the  road  to  Kashmir  is  broken  by 
avalanches,  etc.,  etc.,  and  that  it  would  be  wicked  to  go  on 
without  seeing  the  Station,  etc.  So  I settle  myself  down  for 
a day  or  two,  and  that  afternoon  we  have  an  unexpected  en- 
tertainment, for  a host  of  locusts  makes  its  appearance  and 
puts  an  end  to  pur  game  of  lawn  tennis ; however,  we  get 
exercise  and  more  than  we  bargained  for,  in  our  efforts 
to  stop  the  inrush  of  the  advance  guard  with  our  rackets. 
They  come  so  thick  and  fast  on  the  wind  that  they  blind 
us  and  we  are  obliged  to  beat  a hasty  retreat  indoors. 

Next  day  we  see  all  the  country  pink,  fields,  hedges, 
trees ; everything  green  has  been  devoured  and  locusts 
have  taken  full  possession.  The  crows,  which  have  done 
their  level  best  to  lessen  the  host,  sit  on  the  roofs. 


22 


My  First  journey  into  Kashmir 

surrounded  by  these  pink  and  yellow  insects,  with  beaks 
wide  open,  trying  to  breathe,  as  they  are  utterly  and 
wholly  stodged;  they  now  and  again  just  pick  up  a nice 
young  one  which  crawls  temptingly  at  their  feet,  but  they 
are  obliged  to  leave  it,  alas ! as  there  is  no  room  inside. 
One  felt  quite  sorry  for  them.  We  soon  hear  the  news  that 
the  trains  have  been  stopped  by  them,  as  their  squashed 
bodies  on  the  rails  act  like  grease,  and  the  zigzags  up 
the  salt  range  of  yesterday  become  unzigzagable. 

This  invasion  becomes  so  serious  that  the  troops  are 
ordered  out  to  fight  these  hosts  and  if  possible  to  stop 
their  onward  march  and  save  the  crops.  The  soldiers  dig 
trenches  some  miles  in  length  across  the  locusts’  line  of 
march  or  flight,  and  in  front  of  each  trench  a corresponding 
line  of  fires  are  kept  burning  so  that  as  the  locusts  pass 
their  wings  become  singed  and  they  fall  into  the  pits  and 
receive  decent  burial  at  the  hands  of  the  troops;  but,  as 
a matter  of  fact,  they  came  in  such  myriads  that  the  fires 
were  extinguished,  and  hence  the  country  was  eaten  up 
by  them.  They  finally  went  north  and  perished  on  the 
everlasting  snows. 

Well,  all  good  things  have  to  end  some  time,  and  so  did 
my  visit  to  the  kindest  of  hosts,  Padre  Griffith  and  his  wife. 
The  tonga  is  at  the  door  and  all  is  ready  for  the  200-mile 
journey  through  the  mountains  to  Srinagar,  the  capital  of 
Kashmir. 

While  the  servants  are  loading  the  tonga  and  the  babu 
is  taking  my  rupees  and  writing  me  out  a receipt  (and  I 
may  say  that  this  came  in  very  handy,  for  some  months  after 
the  journey  I v'as  requested  to  pay  twice  for  this  particular 
ride),  let  us  overhaul  our  chariot.  It  is  a two-wheeled 
cart  built  very  low  and  very  strong  and  possesses  good 
springs,  fortunately.  It  holds  four  persons  counting  the 
driver  and  five  if  you  count  the  sais,  wrho  usually  stands  or 

23 


My  First  journey  into  Kashmir 

squats  on  the  step  or  splash-board  with  his  dirty  shirt  (for 
our  Eastern  brother  wears  his  shirt  outside  his  trousers) 
flapping  in  your  face,  so  that  you  get  full  benefit  of  his 
smell.  Above  your  head  is  a strong  canvas  hood,  around 
which  is  piled  the  luggage  from  the  splash-board  upwards 
till  it  meets  on  the  top  and  is  securely  fastened  by 
ropes.  Travellers  should  see  that  the  luggage  is  securely 
fastened,  for  it  has  happened  several  times  to  my  know- 
ledge that  such  interesting  luggage  as  dispatch-boxes  and 
dressing-bags  have  been  dropped  off"  at  convenient  places 
on  the  road,  never  to  return. 

At  the  time  of  which  I am  writing  it  was  the  custom  to 
put  one  pony  in  the  shafts  and  fasten  on  a second  outside 
of  the  off  shaft,  and  this  particular  harnessing  was  one  of 
the  great  causes  of  galling,  from  which  the  ponies  suffered 
to  a terrible  extent.  This  harnessing,  I am  glad  to  say, 
has  been  done  away  with  and  the  curricle  has  been  fitted 
on  instead.  This  consists  of  a short  pole  and  cross-bar, 
the  pole  between  the  ponies  and  the  cross-bar  fastened  to 
the  top  of  the  ponies’  backs. 

The  tonga  is  as  useful  and  comfortable  a cart  as  could 
be  well  desired  for  a mountain  road. 

The  last  good-byes  have  been  said,  and  we  start  off  at 
full  speed  and  rush  straight  into  the  Padre’s  gate-post  and 
pull  up  dead  with  a mighty  jerk.  No  harm  is  done,  how- 
ever, to  the  cart,  but  the  gate-post  looks  a bit  drunk,  and  we 
speed  on,  kicking  up  clouds  of  dust  as  we  go  full  speed 
ahead,  the  Afghan  driver  cursing  and  whipping  the  ponies, 
howling  and  yelling  with  all  his  might  at  all  carts  and 
passengers  ahead  of  us. 

After  a mile  or  two  at  this  pace  the  ponies  are  lathered 
into  a foam  and  we  slacken  down ; then  out  comes  the 
cracked  bugle,  which  brays  on  all  possible  occasions,  in 
season  and  out  of  season,  and  you  wish  the  driver  and  his 

24 


My  First  journey  into  Kashmir 

horn  at  Jericho.  But  all  the  same  this  bugle  is  a necessity, 
for  the  bullock-cart  drivers,  and  camel  and  donkey  drivers 
seem  to  have  buffalo-hide  ear-drums.  They  always  keep 
the  middle  of  the  road,  the  only  part  that  is  metalled,  and 
will  not  hear  till  the  ponies’  heads  are  almost  into  their 
carts  ; and  then  they  get  terribly  excited,  and  twist  the  tails 
of  their  oxen  round  and  round  frantically  in  their  efforts 
to  escape  the  whip  of  the  angry  driver,  who  slashes 
vigorously  and  viciously  at  them  as  he  anathematises 
them  and  all  their  female  relations.  If  you  see  a bullock 
without  a tail  you  now  know  the  reason.  Of  course 
these  continual  blockings  and  the  necessary  sharp  pull-ups, 
and  the  lashings  and  swearings  and  clouds  of  dust,  are 
wearying,  and  you  are  relieved  when  the  five-mile  stage 
arrives  and  you  have  a minute  or  two  of  quiet  whilst  the 
ponies  are  changed.  You  are  then  able  to  get  out  and 
stretch  your  legs,  whilst  the  driver  saunters  up  to  the 
stables  and  squats  down  to  have  his  whiff  from  the  public 
hookah  and  discuss  the  news,  such  as  who  the  passenger 
is  and  how  many  rupees  he  hopes  to  get  out  of  him, 
etc.,  etc. 

While  our  Jehu  inhales  his  smoke  at  the  first  stage  we 
will  have  a look  at  the  well  where  a valuable  horse  met 
its  death. 

Leading  into  the  well  is  a narrow  staircase  for  travellers 
to  descend  and  slake  their  thirst.  This  particular  horse, 
being  allowed  to  roam,  found  this  stairway  and,  being  very 
thirsty,  managed  to  squeeze  itself  down  to  have  a drink, 
and  had  such  a long  drink  that  when  it  wished  to  return  it 
found  itself  fixed,  as  it  was  no  longer  the  same  shape  as 
when  it  entered,  and  there  it  ended  its  days. 

A blast  from  the  horn  tells  me  that  the  tonga  is  ready 
to  start,  so  I take  my  seat  and  off  we  dash  at  full  speed 
with  a pair  of  half-broken-in  ponies.  Dust  envelops  us. 

25 


My  First  journey  into  Kashmir 

More  blasts  of  the  cracked  horn,  more  swearing  and  more 
bullocks  have  their  tails  screwed,  and  so  on  till  the  next 
stage;  and  so  we  go  on  all  day.  We  climb  up  toMurree, 
8000  feet,  and  down  to  Kohala,  2000  feet,  when  the 
shades  of  night  are  upon  us ; and  glad  I am  to  find  myself 
in  peace  at  the  dak  bungalow  post-house,  62  miles  from 
Pindi. 

Kohala  is  the  last  rest-house  on  the  British  road. 
Facing  us  on  the  other  side  of  the  Jhelum,  which  roars 
beneath  us,  is  Kashmir.  The  river  is  spanned  by  a fine 
suspension  bridge. 

As  we  look  on  those  grand  mountains  let  us  look  back 
to  the  time  when  it  came  into  possession  of  the  present 
rulers. 

Kashmir,  being  one  of  the  most  lovely  countries  of  the 
world,  very  naturally  became  the  desire  of  all  who  visited 
it,  and  the  poor  Kashmiri  has  been  the  servant  and  slave 
of  various  dynasties. 

In  1750  it  came  under  the  most  cruel  and  worst  of  all, 
the  rule  of  the  Afghans.  Those  who  would  not  give  up 
their  Hinduism  for  Mohammed  were  done  to  death,  and 
thousands  were  tied  up  in  sacks  and  drowned  in  the  rivers 
and  lakes. 

In  1819  the  Kashmiris  called  in  the  aid  of  the  Sikhs, 
who  drove  out  the  Afghans  and  ruled  with  almost  as  cruel 
a hand  as  did  the  Afghans. 

Again  in  1846  the  country  came  under  the  rule  of  the 
Rajputs,  for  when  the  British  arms  conquered  the  Sikhs 
we  made  over  this  lovely  country  to  Maharajah  Gulab 
Singh,  who  owned  the  neighbouring  country  of  Jummu, 
for  the  paltry  sum  of  three-quarters  of  a million  pounds, 
to  be  his  and  his  heirs,  as  an  independent  possession.  In 
consideration  for  this  transfer,  Gulab  Singh  was  to  hand 
over  annually  to  the  British  Government  one  horse,  twelve 

26 


My  First  Journey  into  Kashmir 

perfect  shawl  goats  and  three  pairs  of  shawls,  and  further 
was  to  bring  all  his  troops  to  join  ours  when  necessary  for 
maintaining  order  in  the  territories  adjoining  his  border. 

When  the  Maharajah  Gulab  Singh  died  his  son,  Ranbir 
Singh,  became  Maharajah,  and  on  his  decease  his  eldest 
son,  Pratab  Singh,  now  Sir  Pratab  Singh,  G.C.S.I.,  took  his 
seat  on  the  gaddi  (throne)  in  the  year  1885.  He  governs 
his  country  with  the  help  of  a state  council  composed  of 
native  officials,  not  from  Kashmir  but  from  India.  Most 
of  them  are  men  lent  by  the  Indian  Government  and  hold 
various  appointments,  such  as  Public  Works,  Revenue,  etc. 

A British  Political  Officer  is  always  in  residence  at 
Srinagar  in  the  summer,  and  Jummu,  the  second  capital,  in 
the  winter,  who  acts  the  part  of  adviser  to  his  Highness. 
At  the  time  of  this  narrative.  Colonel  Parry  Nisbet,  who 
had  rendered  most  excellent  service  to  the  country,  was 
retiring,  and  Colonel  Prideux  came  into  Residence  in  his 
place. 

In  the  East  everyone  rises  early  and  obeys  the  cheering 
notes  of  the  cock,  as  church  or  town  hall  clock  do  not 
exist  in  this  country.  In  the  midst  of  one’s  dreams  one 
hears  the  soft  tones  of  the  bearer  saying,  “ Sahib,  Sahib, 
Chhoti  hazari  taiyar  hai ! ” ( “ Small  breakfast  is  ready  ! ” ) 
— and  a few  minutes  later  one  hears  that  cracked  bugle. 
Jehu  is  anxious  to  be  off,  for  he  has  heard  that  the  road  is 
broken  in  several  places  by  landslips,  which  will  delay  our 
journey  later  on.  So  we  are  soon  off  again  and  rattling 
over  the  suspension  bridge,  but  not  before  paying  the  toll 
to  the  gate-keeper. 

Some  years  later  when  cycling  over  this  bridge  I was 
stopped  by  the  tollman,  who  demanded  the  toll.  I asked 
why.  He  answered  : ct  Pay  the  hire  for  your  gari.” 

I said  : “ It  is  not  a gari.”  He  ran  his  fingers  up  the  list 

and  then  said : “ It  is  a horse.”  I said  he  wras  wrong  again. 

27 


My  First  journey  into  Kashmir 

He  looked  puzzled.  Then  a gleam  came  upon  his  face,  and 
he  pointed  to  the  word  “ perambulator.”  I protested  again. 
Lastly  he  tried  “ pedestrian.”  But  I assured  him  that  my 
feet  never  touched  the  ground.  So  I passed  free. 

But  alas ! when  I returned  some  months  after  and  was 
cycling  past  him  cheerfully  he  cried  “ Stop  ! ” and  produced 
his  list  and  pointed  directly  to  the  word  “ bicycle — 
2 annas.”  So  he  had  me  at  last. 

All  went  well  till  about  the  third  stage,  when  in  harness- 
ing in  the  fresh  pony,  which  objected  mightily,  I noticed 
that  its  chest  was  absolutely  raw,  the  breast-band  having 
literally  taken  off  all  the  skin,  so  I naturally  told  the  sais 
to  take  it  away  and  fetch  another ; but  the  man  laughed 
at  me  and  proceeded  to  harness  it  in,  and  not  until  I 
became  militant  did  he  desist  and  take  the  pony  away. 
The  driver  would  not  assist  me,  but  instead  sided  with  all 
the  stable  hands,  who  evidently  made  jokes  at  my  expense 
by  their  excessive  laughing  and  pointed  gestures.  They 
then  one  and  all  sat  down  and  smoked  their  hookahs, 
evidently  intending  me  to  understand  that  the  tonga 
would  remain  there;  so  I adopted  their  attitude  and  sat 
down  also  and  lit  my  pipe  and  determined  to  sit  them  out. 

I suppose  they  saw  that  I was  determined,  and  no  doubt 
the  Afghan  driver  had  learnt  partially  the  lesson  I had 
taught  him  the  previous  day  over  the  excessive  whipping 
of  the  ponies,  so  they  finally  bestirred  themselves,  and  a 
pony  less  galled  than  the  one  I had  refused  was  put  in. 

Some  of  these  poor  ponies  are  so  galled  and  raw  that 
they  will  not  start  until  a fire  of  straw  has  been  lit  under 
them.  I only  saw  them  try  that  trick  once. 

This  galling  sometimes  sends  them  mad,  and  the  poor 
beasts  in  order  to  save  their  raw  chests  come  broadside 
on,  going  long  distances  like  crabs,  and  dash  themselves 
into  the  rocks. 


28 


My  First  Journey  into  Kashmir 

A friend  of  mine  was  driving  down  the  Murree  hill  and 
one  of  the  ponies  became  utterly  unmanageable,  no  doubt 
from  this  cause,  and  kept  jumping  on  the  low  parapet  wall, 
and  finally  made  a wild  plunge  over  the  wall,  pulling  with 
him  the  other  pony  and  tonga.  The  three  Europeans 
managed  to  jump  out  in  the  nick  of  time  most  marvellously, 
and  they  stood  on  the  road  aghast,  watching  the  ponies, 
tonga-driver  and  sais  going  straight  to  death — the  driver, 
a brave  fellow,  as  most  of  them  are,  sticking  to  his  duty, 
the  sais  dumbfounded,  standing  on  the  splash-board,  until 
with  a terrific  smash  they  went  straight  into  a huge  rock. 
And  that  was  the  end  of  all  except  the  sais,  who  was 
pitched  clear  of  the  rock  and  was  picked  up  senseless,  and 
after  three  days  brought  back,  as  it  were,  to  life,  and  lived 
to  tell  the  tale. 

One  could  fill  a book  of  thrilling  stories  of  this  road, 
terrible  deaths  and  marvellous  escapes;  and  so  these 
excitements  must  continue  until  the  animals  are  properly 
looked  after  and  the  hill-sides  cease  slipping  down,  or  until 
motor  vehicles  supersede  the  tonga  and  the  cart,  and  so 
relieve  the  poor  animals  of  their  burdens,  which  I am  glad 
to  say  is  now  taking  place. 

Well,  the  fresh  ponies  are  harnessed  in,  and  ofF  we  go 
full  speed  as  usual  until  we 'finally  reach  Domel,  where  the 
clear  blue  waters  of  the  Krishen  Ganga  join  the  muddy 
brown  stream  of  the  Jhelum;  and  while  we  sit  in  the 
verandah  of  the  pretty  dak  bungalow  waiting  for  tiffin 
let  me  pass  on  to  you  a yarn  or  two  of  this  wonderful 
mountain  road. 

About  the  year  1888  Colonel  Parry  Nisbet,  an  officer  of 
the  right  type,  was  sent  by  the  Viceroy  to  Kashmir  as 
British  Resident  to  help  the  Maharajah  to  carry  out  the 
many  needed  reforms  in  his  country,  and  amongst  them 
to  push  on  this  cart  road  from  India  to  Srinagar,  the 

29 


My  First  Journey  into  Kashmir 

capital  of  Kashmir,  which  from  Rawal  Pindi  would  be 
about  200  miles. 

At  that  time  Russia  was  menacing  our  frontier  in  the 
Hindu  Kush,  and  it  was  necessary  that  we  should  have  a 
road  for  our  troops  in  order  to  resist  if  necessary  any 
attack  from  that  quarter. 

This  matter  was  urgent,  so  Colonel  Parry  Nisbet  called 
to  him  the  Kashmir  state  engineers,  who  were  then 
finishing  the  first  section  of  the  road,  from  Kohala  to 
Domel,  a distance  of  21  miles.  He  asked  them  to  let  him 
know  how  long  they  would  take  to  finish  the  road  to 
Baramulla,  a distance  of  78  miles,  at  the  entrance  of  the 
valley,  from  which  place  the  river  is  navigable.  They 
answered  that  as  the  first  section  had  taken  them  five  years 
to  make,  this  section  would  take  them  twelve  years. 

The  Colonel  answered  that  that  would  not  do  at  all,  the 
road  must  be  finished  in  two  years.  The  Kashmir  engineers 
said  that  this  was  an  impossibility,  to  which  he  replied  that 
he  would  in  two  years’  time  drive  into  Baramulla. 

As  the  Kashmir  state  was  unable  to  push  on  this  work, 
Colonel  Nisbet  called  in  the  aid  of  Mr  Spedding,  a con- 
tractor, and  he  brought  in  with  him  a band  of  capable 
engineers  and  several  hundreds  of  Pathans  and  other  coolies 
and  took  the  work  in  hand  at  once  ; and  although  the  diffi- 
culties to  be  overcome  were  enormous,  this  party  of  English- 
men with  their  stalwart  coolies  accomplished  their  task,  so 
that  Colonel  Nisbet  did  what  he  said  he  would  do,  for  he 
drove  in  a carriage  and  pair  all  the  way  to  Baramulla  within 
the  two  years.  This  army  of  Afghan  coolies  was  by  no 
means  an  easy  lot  to  manage,  for  amongst  them  were 
many  deserters  from  British  regiments,  and  several  were 
murderers  hiding  from  the  lawq  and  most  of  them  no 
doubt  had  done  their  various  murders  for  the  honour  of 
their  respective  families. 


30 


My  First  journey  into  Kashmir 

It  would  have  been  difficult  to  collect  a finer  lot  of 
scoundrels  than  this  army  which  had  been  brought  to- 
gether for  driving  this  road  through  the  mountains. 

The  English  engineers  had  some  amusing  times  with 
them. 

A young  man  straight  from  Cambridge  was  in  charge 
of  a few  score  of  these  half  savages,  and  at  the  commence- 
ment of  his  command  the  head  of  a certain  gang  flatly 
refused  to  obey  his  officer,  and  to  show  his  determination 
picked  up  an  iron  bar,  threatening  to  brain  him,  but  before 
the  iron  bar  reached  its  mark  our  hefty  savage  had  an 
English  fist  so  smartly  planted  in  his  face  that  he 
measured  his  length  on  the  road. 

These  Pathans  have  some  good  qualities,  amongst 
them  good  temper  and  admiration  for  courage,  so  the 
result  of  that  little  contretemps  was  most  satisfactory,  for 
Appleford  was  honoured  and  obeyed  by  his  good-natured 
scoundrels  till  the  road  was  finished. 

I will  relate  one  other  incident  which  led  still  further 
to  the  respect  of  the  Pathan  coolies  for  their  officers. 
On  pay-day  at  the  end  of  each  week  the  head  gangers 
were  given  the  pay  to  distribute  to  their  men,  but  when 
it  was  discovered  that  these  men  did  not  pass  on  the 
wages  in  full  to  them,  the  engineers  arranged  for  the 
payments  to  be  made  in  public,  so  that  the  coolies  could 
see  that  the  sahibs  did  not  hold  back  their  payments,  and 
the  piles  of  rupees  were  placed  on  the  table  for  the  gangers 
to  take  off.  The  ganger  would  come  to  the  table  and  take 
off  the  rupees  to  distribute  to  his  men,  but  in  so  doing  he 
would  hold  one  hand  just  under  the  table,  so  that  as  he  slid 
the  pile  of  rupees  to  the  edge  of  the  table  to  pick  them 
up  he  would  let  one  or  two  rupees  drop  into  his  hand 
below  the  table  and  would  pocket  them.  In  this  way  he 
hoped  that  the  men  would  see  that  it  was  not  he,  but  the 

31 


My  First  Journey  into  Kashmir 

sahibs,  who  had  given  short  money.  But  again  the  young 
sahibs  were  level  with  them,  for  one  of  them  would  sit 
near  the  table  whilst  the  money  was  being  handed  out  in 
piles,  and  would  keep  his  eyes  on  a line  with  the  top  of 
the  table  and  so  catch  out  these  dishonest  gangers,  and  make 
them  give  up  to  their  coolies  the  money  they  had  secreted. 
Thus  day  by  day  these  rough  hill-men  learnt  to  honour 
and  trust  their  English  officers,  and  in  consequence  put 
their  backs  into  their  work,  and  so  the  road  was  finished 
in  a marvellously  short  time. 

We  must  get  on;  it  is  past  midday  and  there  are  many 
miles  before  us,  and  possibly  the  road  broken.  The 
cracked  bugle  brays  louder  and  louder,  which  shows  that 
our  Afghan  Jehu  is  anxious  to  be  off.  The  ponies  plunge 
and  kick  a good  deal,  which  means,  probably,  that  the  poor 
animals  are  badly  galled.  Crack  goes  the  whip,  the  ponies 
plunge  forward  and  the  tonga  is  brought  up  sharp  on  a 
rock.  The  driver  loses  his  temper  and  hits  and  swears  at 
the  ponies,  cursing  all  the  ponies’  female  relatives  that  he 
can  think  of.  The  sais  is  now  at  their  heads  trying  to 
quiet  the  ponies,  but  they  will  not  pull.  He  coaxes  and 
then  hits  and  then  coaxes  again,  but  all  of  no  avail.  He 
then  brings  a rope  and  ties  it  to  the  ear  of  one  of  the 
ponies  and  tries  to  pull  it  along.  I make  him  take  this 
off,  and  instead  we  all  get  hold  of  the  tonga  and  shove 
at  the  wheels.  The  ponies,  finding  the  load  easier,  bound 
forward  and  we  are  off,  and  the  ponies  keep  it  up  till  the 
driver  with  much  difficulty  pulls  them  up,  as  we  come 
charging  round  a sharp  corner  into  a long  string  of  laden 
camels.  The  camel  drivers,  wakened  up  from  their  sleepy 
walk  by  the  lash  of  Jehu’s  whip,  bustle  the  camels  to  the 
roadside,  and  we  are  off  full  tilt  again;  but  shortly  we 
pull  up  with  a jerk  as  one  of  the  wheels  strikes  a boulder — 
the  road  is  blocked  with  a small  landslip.  We  three  set 

32 


My  First  Journey  into  Kashmir 

to  work  and  make  a path  for  the  tonga,  and  are  oil  again, 
till  we  are  pulled  up  again  for  a similar  reason,  but  are 
fortunate  to  find  coolies  close  at  hand  who  at  the  promise 
of  bakshish  help  us  to  clear  the  obstruction. 

These  particular  coolies  were  carrying  down  apples  to 
Rawal  Pindi.  It  is  simply  wonderful  what  heavy  loads 
these  men  pick  up  when  carrying  for  themselves,  for  each 
man  had  on  his  back  from  two  to  three  maunds  (a  maund 
is  80  lb.).  Each  man  carries  a stick  in  shape  of  a cross 
without  the  head-piece.  They  do  not  walk,  but  trot  for 
about  fifty  yards,  and  then  place  their  stick  under  their 
load  at  the  back  and  spread  their  legs  apart  so  that  the 
weight  of  the  load  is  on  the  stick ; they  rest  for  about  one 
minute  and  then  trot  the  next  fifty  yards,  and  so  in  this 
way  they  get  the  two  to  three  maunds  of  apples  tu’o 
hundred  miles  in  about  twelve  days. 

Very  differently  does  the  coolie  work  for  someone 
else.  This  you  can  see  for  yourself  as  you  drive  along 
the  road.  If  any  man  is  doing  a bit  of  road-mending 
there  will  be  sure  to  be  at  least  four  or  five  men 
watching  him,  and  when  he  is  obliged  to  do  any 
shovelling  there  has  to  be  a second  man  in  front  with 
a rope  attached  to  the  shovel  to  pull  as  the  man  behind 
shoves,  just  as  you  have  in  England  two  men  to  a heavy 
lawn-mower. 

All  along  the  road  one  is  entertained  with  most  amusing 
sights,  from  the  sleeping  forms  of  the  bullock-cart  drivers 
(who  are  supposed  to  be  guiding  their  animals),  wakened 
up  by  the  lashes  of  my  drivers  whip  as  he  curses  them 
for  blocking  up  the  road,  to  the  Kashmiri  bania  (shop- 
keeper), riding  on  his  caparisoned  pony,  with  his  bags  full 
of  all  sorts  of  eatables  tied  round  his  saddle.  When 
the  dashing  tonga  appears  round  a corner  his  steed  takes 
fright  and  dashes  off,  having  just  deposited  his  fat  master 


c 


My  First  journey  into  Kashmir 

like  a bundle  of  rags  on  the  road,  and  scattering  rice  and 
raisins,  etc.,  all  along  the  King’s  highway. 

We  ourselves  are  now  brought  to  a standstill,  and  no 
mighty  blowing  of  the  bugle  will  remove  the  obstacle  in 
front  of  us,  for  there  before  us  is  a road  which  is  no  road, 
for  it  is  covered  with  the  debris  of  an  avalanche. 

I want  the  driver  and  sais  to  start  cutting  a road  for  the 
tonga  with  our  feet  and  hands  shoving  the  boulders  over 
the  precipice,  but  they  say  it  is  useless,  that  it  is  the  will 
of  Allah  that  they  should  wait.  However,  force  of 
example  conquers  and  they  are  soon  pitching  boulders 
down  the  kud.  We  have  only  been  at  it  for  half-an-hour 
or  so  when  to  our  joy  we  see  some  English  travellers 
with  thirty  coolies.  The  Englishmen  at  once  order  the 
coolies  to  help  us;  the  ponies  are  led  over  the  slip,  the 
luggage  is  unshipped  and  coolies  hoist  the  tonga  on  their 
shoulders  and  carry  it  bodily  across  to  the  road  on  the 
other  side. 

I am  so  pleased  to  have  surmounted  the  difficulty  that 
I pay  the  coolies  handsomely,  with  the  result  that  these 
men,  who  before  had  been  quite  mild  and  submissive, 
crowd  round  me  and  demand  more  pay,  and  become  a 
nuisance,  when  down  comes  my  driver  with  his  whip  and 
curses,  and  they  all  fly  like  chaff  before  him.  Again  we 
start,  and  are  once  more  hurtling  down  the  road,  making 
men  and  animals  fly  to  the  sides  as  we  dash  past;  and  so 
we  speed  on  till  we  find  ourselves  at  Hatti  Bungalow,  long 
since  burned  down. 

Here  I welcomed  the  companionship  of  a dog ; although 
he  was  a Kashmiri  dog,  he  understood  English,  which  those 
around  me  did  not ; at  least  he  understood  my  language 
whilst  he  shared  my  dinner. 

Next  morning  when  it  is  pitch  dark  I am  roused  from 
my  slumbers  by  the  soft  voice  of  the  bearer  saying 

34 


Mv  First  journey  into  Kashmir 

“ Sahib,  Sahib ! ” through  the  keyhole  of  my  door,  which  I 
know  means  my  tea  and  toast  are  ready,  and  a few  minutes 
later  I hear  the  cracked  bugle  again,  and  before  long  am 
again  sitting  beside  my  Afghan  Jehu  and  trying  to  explain 
to  him  that  I want  to  reach  Baramulla,  the  last  stage, 
before  night.  On  this  stage  of  the  road  we  see  several 
rope  bridges  crossing  the  River  Jhelum,  which  roars  un- 
ceasingly all  day  and  night,  and  you  wish  for  a little 
quiet. 

These  bridges  consist  of  three  ropes  made  of  hazel 
twngs,  slung  from  stout  poles  from  one  side  of  the  river 
to  the  other.  One  rope  is  for  the  traveller’s  feet  and  the 
one  on  each  side,  four  feet  above  the  foot-rope,  for  his 
hands;  all  three  ropes  are  joined  together  about  every  six 
feet  by  V-shaped  branches.  These  bridges  are  wonder- 
fully strong  though  they  look  so  frail,  and  when  there  is 
a wind  on  you  imagine  what  a spider  must  feel  like  on  its 
web  in  a gale.  Women  generally  cross  on  the  backs  of 
men  and  are  blindfolded. 

You  also  see  the  one-strand  bridge  made  of  leather. 
On  this  rope  is  poised  a V-shaped  stick  upside  down,  with 
a loop  of  rope  at  each  extremity  of  the  V,  through  which 
you  put  your  legs  and  hang  on  with  one  hand  to  this  stick, 
and  with  the  other  you  pull  a lanyard  which  runs  through 
a pulley  on  the  opposite  side. 

The  impetus  w'ith  which  you  descend  to  the  sag 
of  the  rope  takes  you  some  of  the  w-ay  up,  and  the  rest 
of  the  journey  is  accomplished  by  the  aid  of  this  lanyard. 
The  villagers  take  sheep,  goats  and  sometimes  ponies 
across  on  this  rope.  They  tie  their  four  legs  together 
and  they  hang  from  this  V-shaped  runner  and  are  hauled 
across.  There  have,  of  course,  been  many  deaths  in  these 
crossings,  as  the  villagers  go  on  using  them  till  they  break, 
and  sometimes  there  are  five  or  six  persons  on  the  ropes 

35 


My  First  journey  into  Kashmir 

when  they  break,  and  they  drop  into  the  raging  torrent 
and  are  dashed  to  pieces  on  the  rocks. 

We  go  cantering  on  very  steadily  till  twelve  o’clock, 
when  Jehu,  who  is  a strict  Mohammedan,  must  say  his 
prayers ; and  a fine  figure  he  is  as  he  stands,  bends,  kneels 
and  finally  touches  the  ground  with  his  forehead,  going 
through  the  prescribed  attitudes  of  prayer. 

I wish  he  was  as  kind  as  he  is  religious,  for  if  so  the 
poor  ponies  that  he  drives  would  have  an  easier  time,  and 
there  would  be  fewer  broken  bones  of  sheep  and  goats, 
etc.,  from  the  wheels  of  his  chariot  as  it  hustles  along. 

The  sun  has  sunk  behind  the  great  mountains  some  time 
ago  and  darkness  is  creeping  down  into  the  valley,  and 
still  we  are  many  miles  from  Baramulla.  Jehu  tells  me 
that  we  cannot  reach  Baramulla  to-night.  I insist  on  his 
going  on.  He  goes  one  more  stage  and  when  the  ponies 
are  taken  out  refuses  to  have  others  put  in.  I show  him 
that  I am  determined  to  get  to  Baramulla  and  commence 
walking  off  in  that  direction ; soon  I hear  the  tonga  wheels 
behind  me  and  once  more  take  my  seat,  Jehu  pretending 
to  be  very  angry.  The  road  has  been  cut  up  a great  deal 
by  bullock  carts,  and  deep  ruts  and  boulders  scattered 
on  the  road  give  us  terrific  joltings,  and  at  last  the  tonga 
goes  down  one  side  with  a great  bang  and  we  are  fixed  ; 
the  ponies  do  their  best  but  cannot  move  the  vehicle. 
We  all  get  out  in  the  pitchy  darkness  and  grope  for  the 
wheels,  and  try  turning  them,  to  no  avail.  Matters  look 
gloomy,  as  we  are  all  fairly  well  played  out,  when  two 
men  turn  up,  so  with  their  help  we  free  the  tonga  wheels 
and  are  off  once  more ; and  before  long  we  see  lights,  and 
then  more,  and  then  a crowd  of  men  with  torches,  and  we 
find  ourselves  driving  into  the  last  stage.  “ Baramulla  ! ” 
says  Jehu,  and  he  throws  the  reins  on  the  smoking  ponies’ 
backs  and  we  crawl  out.  I find  myself  surrounded  by 

36 


My  First  Journey  into  Kashmir 

jabbering,  noisy  people  such  as  one  sees  at  the  railway 
stations  in  the  Punjab,  only  more  so.  It  seemed  to  be 
pitch  dark  but  for  the  flaring  torches,  which  made  the 
darkness  more  intense. 

These  men  threw  themselves  on  to  my  luggage  and 
began  running  off  with  it.  I,  thinking  that  I had  fallen 
among  robbers,  let  out  left  and  right  until  I got  back  all 
my  belongings.  Jehu  took  this  opportunity  of  using  his 
whip  and  voice  again,  and  landed  out  right  and  left  also, 
for  he  despises  the  Kashmiris.  Amidst  this  babel,  I see 
a man  dressed  in  a sort  of  dirty  night-gown  garment 
holding  out  to  me  a letter,  and  just  as  I am  going  to  take 
it  from  him,  Jehu  snatches  it  from  the  man  and  knocks 
him  straight  on  his  back  with  his  fist.  It  is  now  my  turn 
to  go  for  Jehu,  and  make  him  give  up  the  letter,  which  I 
find  is  addressed  to  me  from  one  of  my  fellow-missionaries, 
saying  that  they  have  sent  this  man  with  a boat  to  bring 
me  up  to  Srinagar,  a distance  of  sixty  miles  by  river.  Jehu 
had  knocked  down  this  man  because  he  had  quickly 
arranged  with  some  other  man  to  take  me  in  his  boat, 
money  having  no  doubt  passed  between  them. 

Having  secured  all  my  belongings,  with  the  aid  of  the 
torches,  I march  off  to  the  engineer’s  bungalow,  kindly  put 
at  my  disposal  as  there  was  no  dak  bungalow,  and  here 
I part  with  my  Afghan  driver,  who  had  caused  me  much 
amusement  and  much  annoyance,  but  which  was  the 
greater  I cannot  say.  My  Jehu  was  certainly  a good- 
tempered,  amusing,  hard-  and  light-hearted  scoundrel.  I 
have  been  driven  by  many  Jehus  since  that  day,  but  never 
a one  like  that  first  Jehu.  I have  never  seen  him  again, 
and  I think  it  is  quite  possible  that  he  is  numbered  among 
those  brave  men  who  have  driven  to  death  on  that  road 
with  their  chariots,  as  he  was  a strong  believer  in 
“ Kismet.” 


37 


My  First  journey  into  Kashmir 

I spent  a quiet  and  very  cold  Sunday  in  Baramulla.  It 
was  the  beginning  of  December.  On  Monday  morning  I 
boarded  my  doonga,  which  the  crew,  consisting  of  two 
men  and  a woman,  towed  up-stream.  We  reached  Sopor, 
on  the  Wular  Lake,  fifteen  miles,  by  three  o’clock. 

At  this  place  the  crew  tied  up,  and  refused  to  cross  the 
lake,  saying  that  they  wrere  afraid  of  the  storms.  I,  think- 
ing this  was  merely  an  excuse,  urged  them  to  proceed. 
At  this  juncture  a Kashmiri  Brahman  headmaster  of  the 
State  School  came  to  my  assistance.  He  had  been  a 
student  in  the  Mission  School  at  Srinagar.  He  told  me 
that  Srinagar  by  road  was  only  thirteen  miles  distance,  so 
I determined  to  leave  the  boat  and  ride  to  the  city,  and 
the  man  procured  a pony  for  me. 

When  the  boatmen  discovered  that  I had  determined 
to  leave  them  they  relented,  and  promised  to  brave  the 
storm,  but  should  they  be  drowned  their  blood  would  be 
on  my  head.  I told  them  that  I was  ready  to  accept  the 
responsibility,  and  to  proceed.  So  we  started  onwards. 
It  was  just  as  well  that  I did  not  accept  the  pony  and  try 
the  road,  for  the  distance  to  the  city  was  really  twenty-six 
miles,  as  the  headmaster  meant  “ kos  ” when  he  said 
miles,  for  a kos  is  two  miles;  also  the  road  was  only  a 
path  and  I certainly  should  not  have  reached  Srinagar 
that  night. 

We  crossed  the  lake  safely  before  dark  and  tied  up. 
The  rest  of  the  journey  up  the  river  took  two  days. 

Although  it  was  snowing  and  bitterly  cold  I could  not 
keep  in  the  boat,  on  account  of  the  smoke  from  the 
kitchen  quarters  and  the  fleas.  So,  great  was  the  relief 
when  Srinagar  hove  in  sight,  and  later  on  warm  was  the 
welcome  that  I received  from  my  fellow-missionaries,  and 
the  Srinagar  community  in  general. 


38 


CHAPTER  II 


BEAUTIFUL  SECLUDED  VALLEYS 

UP  to  the  present  we  have  been  looking  at  the  large 
central  valley  of  Kashmir,  with  its  river  meander- 
ing down  the  centre,  to  which  is  attached  the 
three  beautiful  lakes.  As  you  travel  up  the  river  you  see 
side  valleys  opening  into  the  main  valley  in  all  directions, 
down  which  rushing  snow-fed  rivers  make  their  way  to 
the  main  stream,  Father  Jhelum.  It  is  up  these  beautiful 
secluded  valleys  the  visitors  wander  every  summer  like 
nomads  in  their  tents  and  select  their  own  camping  grounds, 
under  the  shade  of  great  walnut-trees,  or  higher  up  under 
the  pines,  for  these  valleys  are  clothed  with  pine-trees 
from  7000  feet  to  10,000  or  1 1,000  feet;  after  that  grow 
the  birch-trees  up  to  12,000  feet;  then  juniper,  and  after 
that  grass  and  bare  rock  to  the  snows,  at  15,000  feet  and 
upwards. 

In  the  pine-forest  belt  you  come  upon  large  grassy 
downs,  called  “margs,”  on  which  the  hill-folk  feed  their 
flocks  and  herds. 

One  special  marg  has  been  selected  for  the  hill  station, 
called  Gulmarg,  on  which  wooden  bungalows  have  been 
built  by  the  State  and  by  private  individuals.  Gulmarg 
is  8000  feet  above  sea-level  and  is  twenty-eight  miles 
distant  from  Srinagar,  the  capital,  to  which  it  is  connected 
by  a good  cart  road,  with  the  exception  of  the  last  three 
miles  of  steep  ascent  through  the  pine  forest,  which  must 
be  negotiated  by  pony,  dandy  or  on  foot. 

Gulmarg  has  grown  into  the  usual  hill  station,  with  its 

39 


Beautiful  Secluded  Valleys 

club  and  gymkhana,  which  includes  tennis  courts,  cricket 
ground,  polo  ground  and  two  golf  courses,  one  for  men  and 
one  for  women,  which  are  probably  the  best  in  India. 

I can  remember  the  time  when  the  European  residences 
were  only  a few  rough  huts. 

I shall  never  forget  the  chaplain’s  hut  in  heavy  rain : 
there  was  no  dry  spot  under  the  roof.  The  chaplain’s 
wife  had  to  sleep  with  mackintoshes  over  her  bed  and  all 
the  umbrellas  that  she  could  muster.  She  put  the  children 
to  sleep  under  her  bed,  for  that  was  the  only  spot  where 
they  could  sleep  in  the  dry. 

The  church  in  the  winter  was  used  by  the  cowherds 
for  their  cattle,  as  it  was  the  only  hut  besides  the  Residency 
and  another  which  withstood  the  weight  of  the  snow  on 
the  roof,  as  it  was  built  in  more  solid  fashion.  It  was  a 
long  barn-like  building,  with  a row  of  stout  pine  pillars 
down  the  centre  supporting  directly  the  ridge-pole  of  the 
roof,  so  every  summer  there  had  to  be  a good  deal  of 
spring  cleaning. 

Gulmarg  has  moved  on  considerably  since  those  days, 
for  quite  a pretty  stone  building  has  taken  the  place  of 
the  cowshed.  It  has  had  to  be  repaired  several  times  on 
account  of  the  damage  done  to  the  walls  by  earthquake 
shocks.  It  is  about  to  have  its  first  stained-glass  window, 
presented  by  the  churchwarden,  Mr  Willie  Mitchell,  the 
oldest  living  European  inhabitant  of  Kashmir. 

Pretty  wooden  chalets  have  taken  the  place  of  the  log 
huts,  and  Messrs  Nedou  & Sons  have  a large  hotel  in 
which  they  can  accommodate  one  hundred  visitors,  with 
the  addition  of  pitched  tents  around.  There  are  beautiful 
walks  round  about  Gulmarg  among  the  pine  forests, 
through  which  you  get  most  glorious  views  of  the  valley, 
3000  feet  below,  with  its  river  and  lakes  catching 
the  sunlight,  and  then  the  everlasting  hills  stretching 

40 


Beautiful  Secluded  Valleys 

away  in  the  distance,  range  beyond  range ; and  there 
stands  that  great  giant  Nanga  Parbat,  meaning  “ the  naked 
mountain,”  26,700  feet,  towering  above  its  lesser  brethren, 
also  clad  with  the  everlasting  snow. 

Gulmarg  means  a meadow  of  flowers,  and  so  it  used  to 
be,  but  they  have  more  or  less  disappeared,  on  account 
of  the  work  done  on  the  golf  links,  and  other  works  of 
civilisation,  but  there  are  scores  of  other  margs  untouched 
by  the  hand  of  man,  clothed  with  carpets  of  flowers  of 
all  colours  and  hues,  true  paradises  to  all  lovers  of  flowers. 
On  these  margs  roam  droves  of  ponies,  herds  of  cows  and 
buffaloes,  and  flocks  of  sheep  and  goats  without  number. 
The  Mohammedans  explain  the  extraordinary  ugliness  of 
the  buffalo  by  the  old  legend  that  Adam  was  watching 
Allah  make  the  animals,  and  became  so  interested  in  the 
proceeding  that  he  asked  Allah  to  allow’  him  to  try  his 
hand  at  it : he  was  given  permission,  and  the  buffalo  was 
the  result. 

One  has  to  be  careful  when  one  is  passing  a cow7  buffalo 
with  calf,  for  they  are  apt  to  charge  pedestrians,  and 
sometimes  kill  them.  A friend  and  I were  attacked  once 
on  a hill-side  suddenly.  We  w7ere  coming  to  camp  after  a 
heavy  day’s  climbing,  and  our  feet  were  heavy  and  slow, 
when  w7e,  to  our  surprise,  saw7  a cow  buffalo  making  for 
us  at  full  speed.  We  stood  still,  hoping  that  our  firm 
attitude  and  the  human  eye  would  make  the  beast  change 
her  mind,  but  in  our  case  both  failed,  and  we  had  to  take 
to  our  heels,  one  to  the  right  and  the  other  to  the  left.  To 
my  disgust  she  preferred  to  hunt  me,  and  my  friend  must 
have  enjoyed  the  play.  I soon  saw7  that  she  could  run  me 
down,  so  I took  shelter  behind  a large  bush  of  wild  indigo, 
hoping  to  get  a chance  of  dodging  and  so  regain  my  breath. 
As  the  brute  was  not  out  for  play  of  that  kind,  she  charged 
straight  at  me  through  this  bush,  which  was  fortunately 

41 


Beautiful  Secluded  Valleys 

down-hill,  and  that  charge,  on  account  of  her  great  weight, 
took  her  down  the  slope  before  she  could  pull  up,  and  so 
gave  me  time  to  dash  for  another  bush  and  hide.  I hoped 
that  I had  eluded  her,  but  no,  she  saw  me,  and  was  after 
me  again.  I was  heartily  wishing  that  she  would  now 
prefer  paying  attention  to  my  friend,  and  so  give  me  a 
breathing  space,  when  unexpected  deliverance  was  at 
hand.  The  cowherd  had  heard  her  bellowings  and 
snortings  and  came  running  up  full  tilt  with  a big  stick, 
with  wffiich  he  gave  her  some  mighty  whacks,  which  had 
the  desired  effect,  so  my  friend  and  I w'ere  able  to  continue 
our  march  to  camp  and  to  our  much-needed  refreshment. 

The  cowherds,  or  gujars,  as  they  are  called,  live  a 
very  simple  life  in  log  huts  aw^ay  from  the  haunts  of  men. 
Some  of  their  huts  are  made  only  of  large  slices  of  bark 
stripped  off  the  pine-trees.  They  stick  these  strips  up  on 
end,  so  that  their  homes  resemble  Red  Indian  wigwams. 

One  often  visits  these  gujars’  huts  in  the  hope  of 
procuring  milk,  but  they  nearly  always  say  they  have  not 
any,  wrhich  strikes  one  as  very  churlish  behaviour  consid- 
ering the  great  herds  of  cattle  that  are  feeding  on  the 
margs  around  them  ; but  they  have  their  reasons,  for  they 
have  in  the  past  suffered  so  much  from  having  had  their 
milk  and  butter  taken  from  them  without  payment  by  the 
native  officials,  and  also  sometimes  by  the  servants  of 
travellers,  wffio  do  not  look  after  them  properly.  Also  they 
keep  their  milk  for  butter,  which  they  turn  into  “ ghi  ” 
— i.e.  clarified  butter — a most  beloved  food  of  the  Indians. 
Every  autumn  travelling  merchants  visit  these  gujar  en- 
campments and  take  away  their  stock  of  ghi,  which  is  put 
into  goatskins  and  carried  on  pack-ponies  to  the  Punjab. 
The  gujars  always  keep  writh  them  large  fierce  dogs,  a 
very  different  beast  to  the  pariah  dog  of  the  villages. 
They  are  used  by  them  for  protecting  their  flocks  and 

4* 


Beautiful  Secluded  Valleys 

herds  from  the  bears  and  panthers  which  are  ever  on  the 
watch  for  them. 

These  gujars  show  much  pluck  when  defending  their 
property,  and  are  thus  unlike  Kashmiris  of  the  valley.  In 
order  to  keep  themselves  fit  for  the  day  of  battle  they 
practise  lifting  heavy  weights.  You  will  often  see  out- 
side their  huts  huge  dumb-bells;  they  are  sections  of  pine- 
logs  weighing  from  50  lb.  to  too  lb. — in  order  to  get  a grip 
they  scoop  out  a handle  which  they  can  grip  with  one  or 
two  hands — and  these  great  logs  they  brandish  about  in 
order  to  make  muscle. 

When  a bear  or  panther  attacks  their  flocks  or  cattle 
they  first  turn  their  dogs  on  to  them,  and  while  the  beasts 
are  busily  engaged  in  fighting  with  the  dogs  the  gujars 
join  in  with  axes,  and  ropes  with  which  to  lasso  them. 

There  are  two  kinds  of  bear  in  Kashmir — the  brown, 
generally  known  as  the  red  bear,  and  the  black.  The  red 
bear  is  of  rather  larger  build,  and  lives  on  the  higher  margs, 
and  is  not  so  fierce  as  the  black  bear,  which  roams  about 
in  the  forests  and  lives  nearer  the  dwellings  of  men,  sub- 
sisting chiefly  on  fruit,  and  on  the  crops  of  maize,  to  which 
he  does  much  damage. 

The  red  bear  when  caught  young  makes  an  interesting 
pet.  A friend  of  mine  had  one  for  several  years  who 
used  to  follow  him  like  a dog  all  over  the  country,  and 
often  caused  consternation  to  travellers  who  met  him  in 
these  runs  wdien  he  became  separated  from  his  master. 

I shall  not  forget  my  first  introduction  to  him.  I was 
paying  a morning  call  upon  a friend.  I had  only  just 
arrived  in  the  garden  wrhen  a full-grown  bear  appeared 
from  behind  a bush,  and  immediately  mounted  on  his  hind 
legs  and  came  towards  me.  I remembered  that  I had 
been  told  that  the  human  eye  is  a match  for  any  wrild 
beast  (though  my  little  affair  with  the  buffalo  had 

43 


Beautiful  Secluded  Valleys 

weakened  my  faith  a degree  or  two),  so  I drew  myself 
together  and  fixed  him  with  my  eye,  but  alas ! he  would 
not  look  at  me  properly,  and  came  steadily  on,  and  I feared 
he  intended  to  be  affectionate,  and  what  could  I do?  To 
turn  my  back  and  run  would  not  be  British  or  dignified, 
but  I had  to  do  something  and  that  quickly,  for  he  was 
upon  me  and  I could  almost  feel  his  breath.  Fortunately  I 
remembered  that  animals  like  having  their  heads  scratched, 
so  I said  “ Good  bear,”  and  scratched  the  nearest  part  of 
his  body  to  me,  which  was  his  nose,  but  kept  my  eyes  on 
those  terrible  claws  and  muscular  arms  which  might 
encircle  me  at  any  moment. 

I tried  hard  not  to  let  him  know  that  I was  not  exactly 
delighted  at  meeting  with  him  alone.  What  was  I to 
do  next  ? I could  not  imagine,  for  I could  not  eternally 
scratch  his  nose.  Fortunately  all  things  have  an  end  in 
this  life,  and  so  did  the  nose-scratching,  for  deliverance 
was  at  hand  in  the  shape  of  his  master,  who  hoped  that  I 
admired  his  bear,  as  I evidently  showed  that  I did  by  the 
attentions  I was  paying  him.  He  little  knew  what  my 
real  thoughts  had  been  a few  seconds  before. 

On  another  occasion  this  bear  was  chained  up  to  a tree 
outside  his  master’s  tent  when  his  master  was  aroused  by 
terrible  shrieks.  On  coming  outside  to  see  what  was  up 
he  saw  a Kashmiri  lying  on  the  ground  shrieking  with 
terror  and  calling  out  that  he  was  dead,  which  is  the 
common  expression  when  they  are  frightened.  He,  poor 
man,  when  passing  the  tent  had  all  of  a sudden  seen  the 
bear  and,  not  realising  that  he  was  chained  up,  lost  his  head, 
thinking  his  last  hour  had  come.  Bruin  no  doubt  had  got 
on  his  hind  legs  to  welcome  him.  This  poor  fellow  knew 
nothing  of  the  trick  of  fixing  the  wild  beast  with  the 
human  eye.  Black  bear  can  be  very  unpleasant  strangers 
to  meet,  for  specimens  of  their  handicraft  can  often  be 


44 


Beautiful  Secluded  Valleys 

seen  in  the  hospital  wards.  They  seem  to  take  a special 
delight  in  changing  the  shape  of  the  face  of  the  men  or 
women  that  they  happen  to  meet. 

One  hears  some  very  interesting  stories  from  time  to 
time  from  those  who  have  escaped  with  their  lives.  The 
bear  generally  goes  straight  for  the  face,  and  with  one  blow 
smashes  it  in,  and  sometimes  takes  out  an  eye  with  the  blow. 
He  then  comes  up  to  the  fallen  victim  to  see  if  he  is  really 
dead.  If  the  man  does  not  move,  the  bear,  thinking  he  must 
be  dead,  gives  him  a bite  somewhere  on  the  body  and  then 
goes  off  to  dig  a hole  in  the  ground,  as  a dog  does  for  a 
bone  that  he  does  not  then  need,  and  men  say  that  on 
account  of  this  would-be  burial  they  owe  their  escape. 

I have  not  myself  witnessed  the  scene  so  cannot  vouch- 
safe for  the  truth  of  this  statement. 

Bears  at  times  are  very  human  in  their  habits,  for  when 
they  have  been  shot  in  the  body  in  a place  which  they 
can  reach  with  their  fore-paws  they  will  scrape  up  grass 
and  earth  with  w'hich  to  stop  up  the  wound,  very  much  in 
the  same  way  that  I have  seen  Kashmir  coolies  do  when 
they  want  to  stop  the  bleeding  of  a wound. 

Black  bear  are  flesh-eating  animals  in  Kashmir.  Some 
years  ago  my  little  boys  were  out  for  a walk  with  their 
governess  close  to  our  hut  in  the  forest,  when  they  came 
upon  a black  bear  who  had  just  felled  an  ox  and  was  on 
its  back  and  had  commenced  eating  its  hump,  while  the 
ox  was  still  alive.  Some  villagers  came  to  the  rescue  and 
tried  to  drive  the  brute  off,  but  so  pleased  was  he  with 
his  meal  that  he  faced  the  men  and  charged  them  when 
they  came  near  him. 

I kept  a young  black  bear  for  some  time  and  also 
a Himalayan  monkey.  It  was  very  amusing  to  watch  the 
two  playing  together.  Sometimes  the  monkey  would 
ride  on  the  bear’s  back;  at  other  times  the  bear  would 


Beautiful  Secluded  Valleys 

walk  about  with  the  monkey  in  his  arms,  he  licking  the 
monkey’s  face,  while  the  monkey  returned  the  compliment 
by  relieving  the  bear  of  unwelcome  visitors  on  his  head. 
The  bear,  however,  developed  an  unpleasant  temper  and 
was  a source  of  danger  to  the  children,  so  we  thought  it 
better  to  turn  him  into  a rug.  I was  sorry,  for  I had 
hoped  he  might  have  become  a companion  like  my  friend 
the  red  bear,  but  I did  not  then  know  that  their  insides 
differed  as  did  their  skins,  one  being  brown  and  the 
other  black.  One  black  bear  I know  of  who  liked  man’s 
society. 

Some  years  ago  the  village  carpenter  was  making  for 
me  a dug-out  canoe  out  of  a large  pine-tree  in  the  forest 
and  for  several  afternoons  a black  bear  used  to  come  and 
lie  down  near  the  old  man  as  he  worked,  for  company,  I 
suppose.  The  carpenter  himself  was  not  at  all  unlike  a 
grizzly  bear,  for  he  was  covered  with  black  hair,  such  as  I 
have  never  seen  before  or  since,  though  I have  seen  some 
very  hairy  Kashmiris ; also  his  movements  were  very  slow 
and  quiet,  which  was  in  keeping  with  the  forest  beasts 
around  him.  Most  of  the  Kashmiris  are  very  much  afraid 
of  bears,  but  this  man  had,  I suppose,  lived  so  much  in 
their  company  that  he  was  used  to  them,  so  they  lived  on 
friendly  terms,  as  was  the  custom  in  the  days  when  they 
were  not  hunted  as  they  are  now. 

An  old  Padre  told  me  that  when  he  was  in  Kashmir  as 
a young  man  and  was  travelling  up  the  Sindh  Valley 
he  counted  no  less  than  eighteen  black  bears,  which  he 
passed  in  his  march  up;  they  were  up  on  the  fruit 
trees  enjoying  themselves,  and  did  not  attempt  to  move 
from  the  branches  they  were  on.  Even  now  they  are 
plentiful  in  certain  parts,  especially  in  Poonch  State  in  the 
autumn,  when  they  come  after  the  acorns.  When 
the  Raja  has  a big  drive  and  several  guns  taking  part, 

46 


Beautiful  Secluded  Valleys 

the  party  have  on  more  than  one  occasion  slain  thirty  bears 
in  one  day. 

Panthers  are  uncanny  sort  of  beasts  and  do  unceasing 
damage  to  the  flocks  and  herds.  We  had  a lady  panther 
for  a neighbour  near  our  hut  in  the  forest  for  several 
years.  This  hut  had  been  lent  to  us  as  a continual  loan 
by  our  friend,  Mr  C.  M.  Hadow.  Many  of  our  friends  came 
up  at  different  times  to  hunt  her,  but  always  without 
success.  She  would  never  allow  herself  to  be  caught  by 
the  common  trick  of  a tied-up  dog  or  goat  as  a decoy. 

One  year  she  cleared  off  all  the  dogs  from  the  neigh- 
bouring villages,  which  was  a great  blessing  for  us,  as 
these  dogs  are  persistent  and  clever  thieves,  and  keep  one 
awake  at  night  by  their  continual  barking  as  they  prowl 
about  for  food.  Panthers  prefer  dogs  to  any  other  animal ; 
they  will  come  right  up  to  one’s  verandah  or  tent  to  pick  up 
a dog,  as  has  happened  to  several  of  my  friends,  but  my 
dogs  have  so  far  escaped  capture. 

One  night  when  the  servants  wrere  as  usual  having 
their  dinner  in  their  quarters  just  outside  our  hut  the  last 
remaining  dog  but  two  of  the  neighbourhood  W'as  lying 
outside  the  door  waiting  for  scraps;  the  servants  heard  a 
squeal  and  saw  the  panther  picking  up  the  dog,  w'hich  was 
the  size  of  a collie.  He  just  chucked  it  across  his  back 
and  jumped  over  the  fence  with  it  and  was  off. 

The  following  night  the  last  dog  but  one  was  lying 
beside  the  dhobi  as  he,  with  a hurricane  lantern  by 
his  side,  was  eating  his  dinner  under  a tree  close  to  the 
kitchen,  when  the  panther  made  her  appearance  and 
repeated  her  trick  of  the  night  before  to  her  entire 
satisfaction. 

The  next  night  we  were  prepared  for  her  visit  with  our 
fire-arms,  and  as  no  dog  visited  our  quarters  that  evening 
we  put  a kid  in  a basket  and  hung  it  from  the  branch  of 

47 


Beautiful  Secluded  Valleys 

a tree  out  of  the  reach  of  the  panther.  We  were  aware 
of  the  presence  of  Spots  by  the  occasional  slight  crackling 
of  leaves,  but  she  never  showed  herself. 

Then  we  did  some  thinking,  and  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  panther  might  know  all  about  humans’  tricks  on 
land,  but  might  be  ignorant  of  water  and  boats.  So  as 
our  hut  was  on  the  banks  of  a small  lake,  one  of  our 
party  took  ship  with  a shikari  and  hid  among  the  reeds, 
some  fifteen  yards  or  so  from  the  shore,  where  a kid  had 
been  tied.  The  moon  arose  and  sailed  up  the  sky,  but 
there  was  no  sign  of  the  panther.  At  last  the  shikari’s 
patience  gave  out,  and  he  advised  the  removal  of  the  goat 
to  another  place,  so  they  went  ashore ; and  as  the  shikari 
was  in  the  act  of  placing  the  kid  on  his  shoulders  the 
panther’s  patience  also  gave  out,  for  she  made  a spring  for 
the  kid  but  missed  her  prey  as  the  shikari  sprang  aside. 
The  man  with  the  gun  was  at  that  moment  stepping  over 
a fallen  tree  and  was  not  ready,  for  all  happened  so 
suddenly,  so  again  our  friend  Spots  escaped.  Then  a 
renowned  sportsman  said  that  he  would  surely  be  successful 
if  he  came  to  this  place  in  the  winter,  as  he  would  be  able 
to  follow  her  tracks  in  the  snow. 

He  came,  therefore,  in  the  winter,  found  the  pug  marks 
in  the  snow  and  followed  them  patiently  day  after  day  for 
over  a week.  On  his  last  day  he  was  hard  on  the  trail 
when  he  discovered  that  he  was  walking  in  a circle,  and 
it  dawned  upon  him  that  the  panther  was  playing  the  old 
Red  Indian  trick,  that  she  had  come  behind  him  and  was 
tracking  him,  so  he  hid  and  waited.  He  had  not  long  to 
wait,  for  he  spotted  two  eyes  looking  at  him  over  a rock 
at  some  little  distance,  but  before  he  could  get  a shot 
Spots  had  disappeared,  so  again  she  came  out  top. 

We  began  to  think  we  were  honoured  with  no  common 
panther,  but  one  with  super  intelligence,  with  a touch  of 

48 


Beautiful  Secluded  Valleys 

the  human  mind,  which  the  following  event  will  bear 
out. 

It  was  a Sunday  evening  in  August,  when  one  is  glad  to 
see  the  sun  sink  behind  the  mountains  and  be  refreshed 
by  the  cool  breeze  as  the  wind  from  the  mountain  snows 
makes  its  way  through  the  upper  valley  to  the  plain  below. 
I was  returning  home  from  a walk  with  two  children  and 
two  dogs.  My  boy  Eric  had  run  ahead  with  the  dogs, 
though  I had  just  warned  him  to  keep  near  me  with  them, 
on  account  of  the  panther’s  love  for  dogs,  so  the  little 
girl  and  1 wrere  running  to  catch  him  up.  We  had  just 
come  to  a small  clearance  in  the  forest  when  the  little  girl 
grasped  me  tight  by  the  leg  and  exclaimed  : “ Oh  ! daddy, 
look ! ” pointing  to  the  left,  and  then  I saw  the  panther 
in  full  cry,  with  her  long  tail  sticking  up  and  her  nose  on 
the  ground,  coming  straight  for  the  path  we  wrere  on.  It 
wras  all  a matter  of  seconds.  We  stood  absolutely  still. 
She  did  not  spot  us  till  about  six  yards  distant.  She  then 
drew  herself  up  and  stood  stock  still,  glaring  at  us  with 
glassy  eyes,  the  hair  on  her  back  and  her  tail  standing 
erect.  Then  commenced  a staring  match.  Who  could 
hold  out  the  longest  ? The  time  seemed  to  be  interminable, 
but  I felt  sure  that  if  my  eyelids  would  not  play  me  false 
I should  win.  I know  that  I did  not  breathe  and  I do 
not  think  the  panther  did  either.  We  all  three  behaved 
like  stuffed  animals,  for  little  Pamela  played  her  part 
splendidly,  not  moving  a muscle.  I knew'  she  was  trusting 
me,  and  I realised  how  impotent  I w'as  to  protect  her  if 
the  enemy  attacked  us.  At  last  the  spell  was  broken  by 
the  panther,  whose  eyes  gave  out  first.  I knew  then  that 
I had  won  the  first  round,  but  what  w'as  to  follow  ? My 
adversary  put  her  chin  upon  her  fore-paw7s,  bending  low, 
as  if  she  were  salaaming,  and  then  turned  her  face  round 
upon  us  and  treated  us  to  a broad  Cheshire  cat  grin, 

49 


D 


Beautiful  Secluded  Valleys 

which  seemed  to  say : “ What  sport  this  is  ! What  shall  we 
do  next?”  She  then  leapt  up  a great  height  and  came 
down  such  a bang  that  she  shook  the  ground.  She  then 
turned  a somersault,  and  again,  sprang  up,  and  yet  again, 
and  repeated  the  performance  over  and  over  again,  as 
if  for  our  entertainment.  Then  once  more  she  drew 
herself  up  to  her  full  height,  looking  straight  at  us  as 
she  had  done  at  first,  and  then  once  more  dropped  her 
chin  on  to  her  fore-paws,  salaaming,  as  it  were,  again, 
turned  her  face  to  us  with  a parting  grin,  and  was  off 
bounding  into  the  forest  to  the  same  spot  where  we  had 
seen  her  emerge,  and  lo ! our  visitor  was  gone. 

You  can  imagine  our  feelings  while  this  beast  enter- 
tained us,  and  our  relief  when  the  show  was  over.  We 
would  not  have  missed  the  experience  for  anything,  and 
were  most  grateful  to  our  friend  Spots  for  having  decided 
on  acting  a comedy  instead  of  a tragedy  on  that  Sunday 
evening. 

I should  fancy  she  must  have  been  in  an  especially 
happy  frame  of  mind,  having  possibly  already  dined 
satisfactorily,  or  possibly  having  come  across  the  track  of 
some  friend  of  hers  whom  she  particularly  wished  to 
meet.  Anyway  she  was  happy.  It  was  providential  that 
she  just  missed  Eric  with  the  dogs,  who  was  ahead  of  us, 
for  then  the  panther  could  hardly  have  helped  selecting 
a tragedy  for  the  evening  performance,  for  a meal  of 
English  dogs  would  have  been  irresistible. 

1 came  across  the  lady  again  on  two  occasions,  one  of 
them  at  even  closer  quarters,  which  is,  I think,  worth 
telling. 

My  wife  was  ill  one  night,  and  I started  at  midnight  to 
get  medical  aid.  As  I knew  the  path  through  that  bit  of 
forest  so  well  I never  carried  a lantern,  but  my  wife  was 
very  anxious  that  I should  do  so,  so  I gave  in,  and  took  a 

5° 


Beautiful  Secluded  Valleys 

hurricane  lantern.  It  was  a dark  night.  I was  passing 
the  stables,  which  is  a two-storey  building,  with  an  out- 
side stairway  leading  to  the  saddle-room,  when  I imagined 
I saw  a man  sitting  on  the  stairs,  swaying  slowly  from  side 
to  side.  I naturally  jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  it 
must  be  the  sais,  who  was  ill,  and  was  swaying  from  side 
to  side  in  pain,  most  probably  in  his  lower  chest,  so  I 
went  up  and  asked  what  was  the  reason.  I had  not 
finished  my  sentence  when  I felt  a wind  on  my  cheek  and 
then  a shaking  of  the  ground  at  my  feet.  My  sais  had 
disappeared  suddenly  from  view,  stomach-ache  and  all.  I 
then  realised  that  I had  been  talking  to  my  old  friend  of 
the  jungle,  only  a hungry  friend  this  time,  for  she  had 
climbed  the  stairs  and  was  swaying  slowly  from  side  to 
side  as  she  sniffed  our  dogs  under  the  saddle-room  door, 
for  we  put  them  there  at  night  to  be  out  of  harm’s  way. 

The  moral  of  this  story  is,  husbands,  obey  your  wives, 
for  I hardly  think  I should  have  returned  with  my  face 
intact  if  I had  not  been  carrying  the  lantern,  for  it  is 
considered  the  height  of  folly  to  startle  a panther  at  any 
time,  or  to  corner  him  in  the  dark,  and  more  especially 
when  he  is  hungry  and  on  the  point  of  commencing  his 
late  dinner. 

I fear  we  shall  never  know  for  certain  the  end  of  our 
jungle  friend,  who  ate  up  our  thieves  and  stopped  them 
keeping  us  awake  at  night,  but  as  the  dogs  in  the  neigh- 
bouring villages  once  more  increased  to  most  amazing 
numbers,  we  conclude  that  she  is  either  hunting  in  other 
Kashmir  jungles,  or,  what  is  more  probable,  has  joined  her 
ancestors  in  happy  hunting  grounds  elsewhere. 

There  are  many  other  animals  in  these  forests  which  one 
occasionally  comes  across  in  the  early  dawn  or  late  evening. 

There  are  wild  pig,  for  instance,  which  one  is  apt  to 
mistake  for  bear  in  the  dark,  as  they  crush  their  way 


Beautiful  Secluded  Valleys 

through  bushes  and  undergrowth.  Jackals  are  always 
plentiful. 

The  lynx  is  said  to  hunt  with  the  panther,  no  doubt  in 
order  to  get  same  pickings  from  the  kill.  Pine-martens 
very  seldom  show  themselves,  but  one  continually  sees 
where  they  have  been  feeding  by  the  debris  under  the 
fir-trees. 

The  brown  short-tailed  Himalayan  monkey  may  be 
seen  all  over  the  forests,  as  they  live  in  such  large  com- 
munities; they  are  most  entertaining  to  watch,  swinging 
themselves  from  tree  to  tree  with  such  a babel  of  voices, 
and  especially  noisy  are  they  when  they  have  their  young. 
If  they  scent  danger  you  see  them  calling  to  their 
youngsters  to  hurry  up  while  they  make  for  the  pine- 
trees;  the  tiny  ones  mount  their  parents’  backs  and 
are  soon  out  of  reach  up  the  trees.  They  make  very 
interesting  pets. 

They  can  be  caught  by  a very  simple  trap.  An 
earthenware  jar  full  of  rice  is  put  in  their  path,  the  jar 
must  have  a narrow  neck,  so  that  the  monkey’s  hand  can 
slip  in  easily  when  empty,  but  when  the  hand  is  full  of 
rice  it  is  unable  to  withdraw  it.  The  monkey,  finding 
this  ready  meal,  eats  greedily,  but  on  the  approach  of  a 
human  being  he  takes  a large  handful,  intending  to  make 
the  most  of  his  last  chance,  and  he  is  unable  to  withdraw 
his  hand ; he  has  not  enough  sense  to  let  go  his  last 
handful,  and  so  is  caught. 

The  first  monkey  I had  was  quite  a companion.  She 
rode  on  horseback  with  me,  but  whenwe  galloped  she 
became  alarmed,  and  would  climb  on  to  my  shoulder  or 
my  head,  and  hang  on  to  any  handy  projection  to  steady 
herself,  such  as  my  nose  and  my  ears,  which  was  not 
pleasant.  She  would  go  boating  and  swimming  with  me, 
and  was  wonderfully  obedient.  I let  her  loose  in  the 

52 


Beautiful  Secluded  Valleys 

garden,  and  she  would  come  down  from  the  trees  when 
1 called  her.  But  I failed  to  teach  her  honesty : she 
preferred  stolen  food  to  that  given  her  freely.  As  an 
example.  We  were  living  in  a house-boat  on  the  lake  and 
were  expecting  friends  to  tea,  so  that  cakes  were  plentiful. 
Sundri,  for  that  was  her  name — the  Kashmiri  for  a 
beautiful  woman — came  out  of  the  house-boat  front  door 
with  a sponge  cake  in  each  hand  and  one  in  her  mouth, 
a madeira  cake  under  one  arm  and  a plum  cake  under  the 
other.  As  soon  as  she  saw  that  I had  seen  her  she  made 
straight  for  the  roof,  and  commenced  climbing  the  ladder 
to  the  upper  deck.  She  could  only  use  her  legs  and 
elbows,  as  both  hands  and  armpits  were  fully  occupied 
with  the  cakes.  She  however  reached  the  top  safely 
with  her  burden,  trying  hard  the  while  to  cram  the  cakes 
into  her  mouth,  grieving  sadly  that  her  mouth  would  not 
stretch  any  more.  She  was  caught  before  the  madeira 
and  plum  cakes  had  reached  her  mouth,  and  then  punish- 
ment followed— viz.  a ducking  in  the  lake — which  she 
took  in  good  part,  knowing  that  she  deserved  it,  and  also 
that  she  had  swallowed  three  extra  nice  sponge  cakes,  so 
bore  no  ill  will. 

Sundri  would  sit  for  any  length  of  time  in  the  per- 
ambulator with  our  little  boy,  the  two  embracing  one 
another,  she  making  a cooing  sound  all  the  while,  as 
she  no  doubt  imagined  him  to  be  her  own  son.  She 
hated  the  child’s  bearer,  for  he  was  the  wicked  man  who 
interrupted  their  happiness  by  taking  his  charge  away  for 
meals  or  to  bed.  I generally  had  to  come  to  the  rescue, 
to  put  a stop  to  the  awful  swearings  and  the  possible 
bitings  which  might  follow  as  the  tug-of-war  was  in 
progress  between  Sundri  and  the  bearer.  She,  like  most 
monkeys,  hated  being  laughed  at,  and  remembered  those 
for  evil  who  had  opened  their  mouths  at  her,  but 

S3 


Beautiful  Secluded  Valleys 

responded  to  all  who  treated  her  with  respect  and  took 
her  seriously. 

The  Kashmir  forests  are  just  full  of  interest,  for  one 
never  knows  what  interesting  animal,  bird  or  insect  one 
may  meet  with  in  one’s  walks,  and  especially  if  one  has 
leisure  to  sit  down  under  the  shadow  of  a tree,  bush  or 
rock,  and  in  perfect  stillness  remain  with  eyes  and  ears 
open. 

There  is  one  drawback  to  the  forest  as  far  as  I am 
concerned,  and  that  is  the  presence  of  the  ankhor  {Rhus 
acuminita ) tree.  It  has  very  graceful  and  vivid  green  foliage, 
but  its  juice  is  poisonous.  It  affects  some  people  far  more 
than  others.  I have  on  three  occasions  been  ill  for  three 
weeks  from  having  touched  it  by  accident.  After  touching 
that  tree,  every  part  of  my  body  which  my  hand  touched 
came  out  in  huge  blisters,  and  the  irritation  was  intense  and 
caused  fever.  No  medicine  seemed  to  be  of  any  use,  so  it 
had  to  run  its  course.  Some  Kashmiris  suffer  badly  from 
it.  I am  told  that  they  make  use  of  it  when  they  wish  to 
punish  an  enemy.  In  climbing  up  a hill  through  brush- 
wood one  is  apt  to  put  one’s  hand  on  the  trunk  to  help 
oneself  up,  or  vice  versa  in  descent  to  use  it  as  a break 
on  one’s  too  rapid  progress.  I wage  war  with  my  enemy, 
and  cut  them  down  whenever  possible. 


54 


CHAPTER  III 


THE  TOWNS  IN  THE  VALLEY 

STANDING  on  these  glorious  pine-clad  mountains, 
and  seeing  through  a clearing  in  the  forest  the  whole 
Vale  of  Kashmir  stretched  before  one’s  feet,  one 
thinks  of  Moses  on  Mount  Pisgah  viewing  the  Promised 
Land.  For  truly  Kashmir  is  a land  of  milk  and  honey. 
Margs  on  your  right  and  left  provide  grass  in  abundance 
for  the  cattle,  and  flowers  galore  for  the  bees.  In  front 
of  you,  in  the  plain  below,  you  see  clumps  of  trees,  under 
which  the  villages  nestle,  surrounded  by  the  rice-fields,  now 
shining  in  the  sunlight  like  a great  sea,  the  villages  being 
the  islands ; and  beyond,  you  see  the  city  of  Srinagar, 
with  its  Hindu  temple  domes  catching  the  sun’s  rays,  and 
the  Dal  Lake  green  with  its  floating  and  other  gardens 
and  the  great  hills  beyond,  and  above  them  ranges  of  snow 
mountains ; and  above  all,  the  range  near  Gilgit,  where 
Nanga  Parbat  stands  out  head  and  shoulders  above  other 
rocky  giants. 

In  the  valley  there  are  only  four  places  worthy  of  the 
name  of  towns : Srinagar,  Baramulla,  Sopor  and  Islamabad. 
Srinagar,  the  capital,  lies  in  the  centre  of  the  valley,  with  a 
population  of  130,000.  Baramulla  lies  in  the  south-west, 
where  the  River  Jhelum  leaves  the  valley  through  a deep 
gorge,  and  thence  becomes  a foaming  torrent  as  it  drops 
3000  feet  to  the  plains  of  India. 

Baramulla  has  a population  of  six  or  seven  thousand, 
and  is  the  town  of  export,  as  it  is  here  that  the  river-borne 
traffic  from  this  spot  leaves  the  valley — by  road  chiefly,  on 

55 


The  Towns  in  the  Valley 

bullock  carts  down  the  Jhelum  Valley  road,  usually  a 
journey  of  ten  days,  to  Rawal  Pindi  in  the  Punjab. 

The  chief  exports  are  fruits,  such  as  apples,  pears  and 
walnuts ; hides  and  grain  of  various  sorts  (but  rice  is  not 
allowed  to  be  exported) ; woollen  homespun,  skein-silk 
from  the  huge  State  silk  factory,  carpets  and  Yarkandi 
felts. 

Timber,  chiefly  railway  sleepers  of  deodar,  floats  past 
Baramulla  on  the  river  to  Jhelum,  and  a rough  passage 
it  is,  for  the  river  falls  4000  feet  in  its  journey  of  two 
hundred  odd  miles. 

The  ancient  name  of  the  town  Baramulla,  which  is 
called  Varamul  by  the  natives  of  the  country,  was  Varahmul. 
This  locality  has  enjoyed  great  sanctity  since  early  times 
as  the  dwelling-place  of  Vishnu  in  his  incarnation  of 
Adivaraha,  or  primeval  boar.  The  legend  connected  with 
the  sacred  site  is  related  in  the  Nilatnata.  An  abstract  of 
this  legend  may  be  given  here.  Shankasura  (a  conchifer- 
ous  demon)  had  carried  away  the  terrestrial  globe,  with 
all  the  sacred  Vedas.  The  Devas  (gods)  were  in  great 
distress  for  the  loss  of  Prithvi  (goddess  of  the  earth) 
and  the  eternal  Vedas.  They  implored  Vishnu  to 
save  the  earth  and  their  inspired  books.  Vishnu,  in  the 
form  of  a great  boar,  dived  after  the  monster  and 
killed  him.  He  brought  up  the  earth,  with  all  the 
Vedas.  The  place  where  he  rested  after  the  great 
exploit  became  known  as  Varahmula  (the  abode  of  the 
boar).  This  legend  preserves  an  indirect  reference  to 
the  Great  Flood,  the  submersion  of  the  earth  and  its 
final  reappearance  after  the  waters  of  the  globe  had 
subsided. 

The  ancient  temple  of  Varaha,  which  stood  near  the 
site  of  the  present  Kotitirtha,  at  the  western  extremity  of 
the  town  and  close  to  the  river-bank,  seems  to  have  been 

56 


Nanga  Parbat. 


The  Towns  in  the  Valley 

one  of  the  famous  shrines  of  Kashmir.  The  ancient 
lingas  and  sculptures  found  at  the  Kotitirtha  may  have 
originally  belonged  to  this  temple.  This  shrine  and  its 
sacred  image  of  the  Varaha  were  destroyed  by  Sikandar 
Butshikan.  About  ten  miles  up-stream  to  the  east  is 
Sopor,  with  its  population  of  9000,  which  has  not  changed 
from  the  day  that  I first  saw  it  in  1890. 

Very  picturesque  it  is,  as  it  is  situated  on  both  sides  of 
the  river,  which  is  here  two  hundred  or  more  feet  in  width, 
and  spanned  by  a drunken-looking  cantilever  bridge  made 
of  deodar  (the  tree  of  God)  logs.  The  Mohammedan 
mosques,  with  their  grass-covered  roofs  and  wrooden 
minarets,  and  the  tin-covered  domes  of  Hindu  temples  add 
much  to  its  interest.  The  streets  are  very  narrow,  filthy 
and  evil-smelling  in  the  extreme. 

It  is  the  chief  port  of  the  Wular  Lake,  so  possesses  a 
good  market  for  the  products  of  the  lake : fish,  singara 
nuts  and  waterfowl.  In  the  autumn  sportsmen  come 
here  to  spin  for  the  masheer,  a fish  which  runs  to  a great 
size,  the  record  fish  being  54  lb. 

The  drawback  to  this  place  is  the  mosquitoes,  the  air 
being  thick  with  them,  so  much  so  that  it  is  difficult  to 
eat  one’s  food  without  swallowing  them.  The  fishermen 
are,  as  a rule,  too  keen  on  their  sport  to  worry  about 
them,  and  sometimes  they  are  rewarded  by  really  good 
sport;  or  the  unexpected  may  happen. 

An  officer  was  fishing  at  this  place  when  some  boatmen 
came  in  from  the  lake  saying  that  they  had  seen  a bear 
swimming  in  the  lake,  and  asking  him  to  come  and  shoot 
it.  He  at  first  refused  to  believe  their  story,  but  finally 
agreed  to  go  with  them  with  his  rifle,  when  after  some 
time  the  boatmen  spotted  their  quarry,  for  true  enough 
it  was  a bear  which  was  swimming  across  the  lake,  a 
distance  of  at  least  four  or  five  miles  at  this  point.  But 


57 


The  Towns  in  the  Valley 

he  was  not  allowed  to  finish  his  swim,  which  I think  was 
not  quite  playing  the  game. 

This  reminds  me  of  a somewhat  similar  event  which 
happened  in  the  Dal  Lake,  near  the  city,  some  time  ago. 
I fear  I have  already  written  at  too  great  a length  about 
our  wild  animals,  but  as  this  is  rather  an  extraordinary 
event  I may  be  excused. 

Two  British  officers  were  encamped  at  Naseem  Bagh, 
which  is  one  of  the  camping  grounds  on  that  beautiful 
lake,  when  some  boatmen  came  to  them  in  great  excite- 
ment, saying  that  they  had  seen  a panther  on  one  of  the 
small  garden  islands  and  asking  them  to  come  and  shoot 
it.  The  officers  naturally  thought  this  panther  was  in 
the  boatmen’s  imagination  only,  for  no  one  had  heard  of 
a panther  coming  down  so  near  the  city  in  summer-time, 
as  they  have  plenty  of  food  on  the  hills.  However,  the 
boatmen  promised  to  show  them  the  panther,  so  these 
officers  went  with  them.  When  the  party  arrived  near 
this  small  island  garden,  not  far  from  the  mainland,  one 
of  the  boatmen  took  the  two  officers  in  a small  boat. 
As  the  boat  glided  under  the  willow-trees  they  saw  the 
panther,  who  was  cornered,  waiting  for  them.  One 
officer  was  standing  up  in  the  prow  of  the  boat  with  his 
rifle,  the  other  was  in  the  centre,  and  the  boatman  steering 
with  his  paddle  in  the  stern. 

They  had  come  upon  the  panther  before  they  were 
aware,  and  the  boatman  was  unable  to  stop  the  way  of 
the  boat.  The  panther  sprang  at  the  boat  and  hit  it  so 
hard  that  the  officer  in  the  bow  and  the  boatman  in  the 
stern  were  pitched  into  the  water,  while  the  officer  in  the 
centre  with  difficulty  kept  his  balance,  as  the  panther 
was  struggling,  being  half  in  the  boat  and  half  in  the 
lake.  The  other  officer  and  the  boatman,  who  had  dis- 
appeared under  the  water,  happened  to  come  to  the 

58 


The  Towns  in  the  Valley 

surface  at  the  same  moment,  when,  in  their  excitement, 
they  each  mistook  the  other  for  the  panther,  and  both 
dived  to  escape  from  a mauling.  In  the  meantime  the 
officer  in  the  boat  managed  to  put  a bullet  through  the 
head  of  the  poor  beast,  who  was  making  a gallant  fight 
for  his  life. 

Islamabad,  a town  of  10,000  inhabitants,  is  at  the 
east  end  of  the  valley.  It  is  48  miles  up-stream  from 
Srinagar,  but  only  33  by  road,  and  is  noted  for  its 
hot  sulphur  springs  and  tanks  of  sacred  carp  belonging 
to  the  Hindu  temples  situated  on  the  banks.  These 
springs  are  most  useful  for  those  suffering  from  that 
unpleasant  skin  disease  vulgarly  called  the  “itch.”  As 
this  particular  disease  affects  nearly  every  Kashmiri,  these 
springs  are  much  in  favour.  This  town  is  also  known  by 
its  Hindu  name  of  Ananth  Nag,  which  means  “ the  place 
of  many  springs.”  It  used  to  be  one  of  the  chief  cities 
of  the  shawl  trade,  but  now  its  chief  industries  are  em- 
broidery work  and  making  floorcloths  and  curtains  out  of 
the  disused  woollen  blankets,  and  very  effective  they  are. 
The  carpenters  also  turn  out  a good  deal  of  highly  coloured 
wooden  articles  which  look  like  lacquer  work,  but  is  really 
wood  coloured  and  then  highly  polished  by  the  use  of  the 
lathe.  They  make  very  elegant  spinning  wheels,  candle- 
sticks, bowls  and  cups,  etc. 


59 


CHAPTER  IV 


THE  KASHMIRIS 

BEFORE  our  visit  to  the  capital,  Srinagar,  it  would 
be  as  well  to  know  something  of  the  character 
and  general  look  of  the  inhabitants  of  that  very 
picturesque  and  dirty  city. 

The  Kashmiris  are  of  the  Aryan  stock,  and  are  as 
a rule  quite  good-looking.  The  women  are  considered 
to  be  beautiful.  I must  say  that  I have  not  myself  seen 
many  beauties,  but  possibly  if  they  were  clean  and  wore 
becoming  garments  I might  have  reason  to  change  my 
opinion.  Also  most  of  the  upper-class  women  are  never 
seen  in  the  streets,  and  I am  told  by  the  ladies  who  visit 
the  zenanas  that  some  of  the  women  are  really  beautiful. 
Many  people  think  that  the  Kashmiris  belong  to  the  lost 
tribes  of  Israel,  as  many  of  them  have  such  Jewish  noses, 
also  their  love  of  money  and  of  getting  the  better  of 
their  neighbours  is  very  strong. 

Their  complexion  is  fair  as  compared  with  their  Indian 
neighbours ; those  living  in  towns  are  fairer  than  the 
country  folk.  Some  of  them  might  easily  pass  for 
Europeans.  The  Hindu  women  and  boys  have  generally 
refined  features,  quite  of  Greek  type.  Many  have  rosy 
cheeks  and  pink  complexions,  and  a few  have  blue  eyes 
and  auburn  hair ; but  auburn  hair  is  not  a popular  colour, 
and  they  dislike  any  remark  on  the  fact.  One  especially 
notices  their  fair  complexion  when  they  are  with  Indians 
or  Eurasians — i.e.  those  of  mixed  birth,  now  known  as 
Anglo-Indians. 


60 


The  Kashmiris 

A certain  scene  impressed  itself  on  my  mind  in  this 
respect.  It  was  that  of  an  Anglo-Indian  and  his  servant. 
This  Anglo-Indian,  who  happened  to  be  exceptionally 
dark,  was  walking  to  his  office  on  a hot  day.  His  servant, 
a Kashmiri,  who  was  scarcely  distinguishable  from  a fair 
European,  for  he  had  blue  eyes  and  pink  cheeks,  and  a 
bright,  happy  face  withal,  was  walking  behind  holding  up 
an  umbrella  to  shade  the  dusky  gentleman’s  face  from 
the  sun,  and  carrying  his  books.  Many  of  the  dwellers 
in  this  land  are  very  keen  to  keep  up  their  position  and 
consider  it  infra  dig.  to  be  seen  carrying  anything,  and 
also  like  to  be  followed  about  by  a servant,  according 
to  Eastern  custom. 

What  amusement  the  Pandit  officials  used  to  afford 
one  every  morning  in  days  gone  by,  when  the  head  of 
a department  was  making  his  triumphal  march  from  his 
house  to  his  office,  at  the  gentlemanly  pace  of  the  ox,  two 
miles  an  hour,  followed  by  his  subordinate  clerks  and 
servants.  I have  counted  as  many  as  thirty  marching  at 
this  funereal  pace  in  order  to  show  that  they  were  gentle- 
men, and  that  time  was  no  object.  They  all  walked  in 
single  file,  as  one  clerk  was  greater  in  position  than  the 
other  and  therefore  could  not  walk  abreast.  The  head 
official  would  be  walking  in  front,  with  his  lower  chest 
well  to  the  fore,  and  as  he  swaggered  along  he  would 
chuck  his  words  behind  him  to  those  following.  Some- 
times he  would  condescend  to  call  one  up  to  him,  and 
he  would  come  before  the  great  man  with  his  hands  in 
the  attitude  of  prayer,  and  head  at  the  correct  angle  of 
obeisance.  Most  of  this  small  army  of  followers,  I was 
told,  were  dependents  of  the  household,  and  were  poor 
relatives  living  on  the  rich  man’s  bounty,  who  paid  for 
their  keep  by  swelling  his  retinue  and  thus  bringing 
honour  and  conferring  dignity  upon  the  great  man  and 

61 


The  Kashmiris 

his  house.  The  days  of  slow  progression  are  fast 
departing,  as  it  is  being  discovered  that  time  is 
valuable. 

I was  on  one  occasion  on  a journey  with  my  Brahman 
munshi ; we  were  riding  ponies.  It  was  a lovely  day,  and 
my  pony  seemed  to  be  aware  of  this  fact,  and  we  were 
just  going  sixteen  to  the  dozen,  when  I became  aware 
that  the  munshi  was  not  enjoying  this  headlong  pace  as 
much  as  I was,  for  he  was  crying  out  for  me  to  stop.  So 
I reined  up,  and  then  up  came  the  Brahman  munshi,  red 
in  the  face  and  breathing  hard.  44  Oh,  Sahib,”  he  said, 
44  why  do  you  ride  like  this,  for  kings  always  ride  slow  ? ” 
“Yes,”  I said,  44  they  may  do  so,  but  I am  not  a king. 
So  come  on.” 

However,  the  munshi  was  almost  in  tears,  so  I had 
mercy  on  him,  and  we  rode  at  a more  gentlemanly  pace, 
but  not  quite  that  of  the  kings’  pace  of  which  he  was 
thinking. 

In  physique  the  dwellers  in  towns  naturally  differ  much 
from  those  in  the  country  and  in  the  mountains.  In  the 
towns  the  people  are  weak  and  undersized,  partly  from 
their  indoor  occupations,  such  as  weaving  and  embroidery 
work,  where  they  sit  all  day  in  stuffy,  small  rooms,  or 
are  clerks  bending  over  their  desks,  who  never  think  of 
taking  exercise  after  office  hours  by  joining  in  games. 
They  have  no  hobbies  with  which  to  fill  their  spare 
time. 

But  especially  are  they  a weak  lot  on  account  of  the 
filthiness  of  the  towns  and  fetid  air,  which  make  them 
sickly  and  antemic.  Then  their  morals  are  not  high,  to 
say  the  least  of  it ; the  most  of  them  suffer  from  bone 
or  skin  diseases.  Epidemics  of  various  kinds  play  havoc 
among  them.  Everyone  has  small-pox,  with  the  exception 
of  the  few  that  have  been  vaccinated ; every  fifth  person 

6 2 


Photo  by]  A /•  Shuler. 

A Village  Industry. 

Making  Cloth. 

The  woman  in  this  illustration  is  weaving  the  cotton  “ sheet  " the  Kashmiri  likes  to  wear  draped  about  his  shoulders  when  he  wishes 
to  anywhere  in  full  dress, 


Photo  by]  (V'is&u  Nath. 

Pilgrims  Returning  from  the  Mountains. 

Crossing  the  valley  may  be  seen  a procession  of  Hindu  pilgrims  who  had  met  in  Srinagar  from 
all  parts  of  upper  India  and  who  having  now  accomplished  the  journey  to  the  sacred  cave  of 
Amarnath  are  returning  to  their  distant  homes.  Great  hardships  are  suffered  by  the  older  and 
infirm  on  this  mountain  pilgrimage,  but  its  performance  brings  great  “ merit." 


The  Kashmiris 

is  pitted  with  small-pox  on  some  part  of  his  body,  and 
many  are  blinded  from  it. 

Every  four  or  five  years  cholera  in  epidemic  form 
sweeps  them  oflf  in  hundreds,  and  sometimes  in  thousands, 
during  the  summer  months.  Typhoid  is  rampant  in  the 
city,  and  now  consumption  is  increasing  and  taking  toll  of 
the  population. 

With  the  advance  ot  education  the  people  are  gradually 
learning  that  sickness  is  caused  by  germs  and  not  by  the 
will  of  Allah,  or  in  the  case  of  Hindus  by  the  caprice  of 
their  various  gods  and  goddesses.  For  example,  when 
small-pox  attacks  a family,  they  seem  rather  pleased  than 
otherwise,  as  they  say  the  goddess  has  deigned  to  visit 
their  humble  dwelling.  This  is  one  of  the  reasons  why 
the  Hindus  object  to  vaccination.  It  will  be  a slow  busi- 
ness to  alter  the  conditions  of  the  towns  in  the  matter  of 
sanitation,  as  the  people  themselves  are  against  improve- 
ment. Their  answer  to  any  change  is  always  the  same 
— namely,  “ Our  fathers  and  forefathers  were  always  very 
happy  and  contented  under  the  existing  order  of  things, 
so  why  should  not  we  be  satisfied?”  A certain  Health 
Officer,  who  had  been  to  England  for  his  medical  training, 
and  was  out  to  do  his  duty,  being  keen  on  his  work,  came 
to  me  one  morning  very  much  upset,  for  there  was  an 
especially  filthy  alley  leading  from  the  main  street  to  the 
river  which  was  much  frequented.  He  wished  to  have 
it  paved  with  bricks  so  that  it  could  be  flushed  with 
water  and  kept  clean. 

The  Brahman  priests  of  the  neighbourhood  had  come 
to  him  and  ordered  him  to  desist,  using  the  usual  fore- 
father argument.  So  as  the  Health  Officer  stood  firm  to 
his  resolve  they  threatened  that,  if  he  attempted  to  pave 
the  alley,  they  themselves  would  lie  down  flat  on  the  road 
and  he  would  have  to  lay  the  bricks  over  them.  The 

63 


The  Kashmiris 

doctor  was  certainly  in  a fix.  My  advice  to  him  was  to 
carry  on,  for  the  priests  would  soon  have  had  enough  of 
bricks.  But  he  shook  his  head,  saying  that  he  dared  not 
do  that.  So  the  Brahman  priests  won  the  day,  and  that 
alley  remains  what  it  always  has  been,  a latrine  for  the 
priests  and  their  families,  a pestilential  spot.  It  is  not 
easy  to  hurry  the  East. 

In  the  villages  the  habits  of  the  people  are  the  same 
as  those  of  the  towns,  only  as  more  fresh  air  is  obtainable 
the  health  and  physique  of  the  people  is  better.  One’s 
nose  always  tells  one  from  afar  that  one  is  nearing  a 
village,  and  the  people  love  to  have  it  so. 

The  outdoor  life  of  the  villagers  is,  of  course,  a healthy 
one,  and  their  bodies  become  strong  from  constant  labour, 
but  in  the  winter  they  also  suffer  much  from  disease,  as 
they  shut  themselves  up  in  their  houses  and  froust.  They 
keep  their  cows  in  the  lower  rooms,  and  block  up  every 
hole  and  cranny  with  mud  and  straw  to  keep  out  any 
fresh  air,  consequently  the  room  becomes  so  hot  that  the 
moisture  literally  drips  from  the  ceiling.  The  family  sit 
in  the  room  above ; thus  the  heat  of  the  cows,  coming  up 
from  below,  keeps  them  happy  and  comfortable  all  the 
winter,  and  with  no  extra  expense.  Truly,  those  in  the 
West,  with  coal  at  such  a fabulous  price,  have  something 
to  learn  from  the  East.  Yet,  notwithstanding  the  un- 
healthy conditions  of  the  villagers  in  the  winter,  the 
peasants  are  physically  strong. 

In  the  autumn-time,  on  the  Jhelum  Valley  road,  before 
bullock  carts  came  into  use,  you  would  see  hundreds  of 
coolies  carrying  the  great  weight  of  from  two  to  three 
maunds  each  (a  maund  = 8o  lb.)  of  apples  on  their 
backs,  a journey  of  200  miles.  Each  man  carries  a 
stout  stick  about  two  and  a half  feet  in  length  with  a 
cross-bar.  So  when  he  wishes  to  rest  he  places  this  stick 

64 


The  Kashmiris 

behind  him  under  his  load.  By  this  method  he  can  rest 
his  load  without  trouble.  Their  custom  is  to  trot  with 
their  load  about  fifty  yards  at  a time  and  then  rest : in 
this  manner  their  load  of  apples  would  reach  Rawal  Pindi 
in  twelve  days.  The  women  make  muscle  through  their 
daily  occupations,  by  grinding  at  the  mill  and  husking 
their  rice  with  pestle  and  mortar.  The  mortar  is  a 
hollowed  trunk  of  a tree  about  two  feet  high  and  a foot 
and  a half  wide  at  the  top.  The  pestle  is  a beam  of  wood 
about  five  feet  long  cut  thin  in  the  middle,  so  that  it  can 
comfortably  be  held  with  one  hand.  It  is  heavy  work, 
and  it  takes  from  an  hour  to  an  hour  and  a half  to  husk 
the  rice  for  one  meal.  Then  besides  their  housework 
they  have  work  in  the  fields  as  well.  It  is  a hard,  healthy 
life  and  they  thrive  on  it. 

The  coolies  and  other  hard  workers  employ  an  ingenious 
method  for  refreshing  themselves  when  they  are  fagged 
out.  The  tired  man  will  lie  prone  on  the  ground  on  his 
stomach,  and  call  his  pal  to  massage  him.  This  is  done 
by  his  pal  walking  up  and  down  on  the  top  of  him  very 
slowly.  He  begins  at  his  heels  and  walks  up  his  legs  and 
back,  to  his  neck,  digging  his  toes  into  the  muscles  of  his 
legs,  his  back  and  neck,  as  he  slowly  moves  up  and  down 
him.  The  man  who  is  prone  keeps  grunting  as  the  toes 
of  his  pal  do  their  work.  After  a few  minutes  of  this 
operation  he  gets  up  and  shakes  himself,  and  then  does 
the  same  kindness  for  his  pal.  After  this  they  both 
shoulder  their  loads  and  go  off  in  good  spirits.  I have 
never  tried  this  particular  form  of  massage,  but  I have 
had  experience  of  other  forms  of  their  massage  which 
they  so  willingly  perform  on  one,  and  I have  found  it 
most  refreshing. 

Those  who  live  in  the  mountains,  especially  those  on 
the  frontier  states,  such  as  Gilgit,  Hunzar  and  Nagar,  are 

65 


E 


The  Kashmiris 

a fine  type  of  men,  hardy  mountaineers,  and  of  quite  a 
different  stamp  to  the  Kashmiri  of  the  valley.  They  are 
born  sportsmen,  hunting  the  ibex  among  their  native 
rocky  haunts,  and  have  become  like  the  ibex  in  agility 
and  hardiness. 


66 


CHAPTER  V 


KASHMIR,  ANCIENT  AND  MODERN 

AS  we  have  now  seen  something  of  the  beautiful 
country,  and  have  a nodding  acquaintance  with 
the  people  of  the  valley  and  the  hills,  it  may  be 
well  to  look  backwards  into  their  past  history,  so  that  we 
may  understand  something  of  their  character.  Kashmir 
fortunately  possesses  an  ancient  history,  and  a civilisation 
more  ancient  than  our  own.  There  are  many  legends  of 
prehistoric  times  when  the  Vale  of  Kashmir  was  a vast 
lake  and  was  inhabited  by  a great  snake. 

Here  is  one  of  their  legends. 

According  to  the  earliest  traditional  account  this  lake 
occupied  the  place  of  Kashmir  Valley.  A demon  called 
Jallodbhava  (water-born)  resided  in  this  lake.  This  demon 
caused  great  distress  to  all  the  neighbouring  countries 
by  his  devastations.  At  last  Kashyapa  Muni  implored 
Shiva  to  help  him  to  kill  the  demon.  His  prayer  was 
granted,  and  he  succeeded  in  getting  the  demon  killed, 
with  the  help  of  the  gods,  near  Kaunsar-nag.  Shiva  made 
an  exit  near  Baramulla  with  his  trident,  the  water  rushed 
out  and  the  land  thus  produced  became  inhabitable. 

At  first  men  dwelt  in  it  for  six  months  only  in  the  year 
and  left  Kashmir  for  the  six  months  of  winter,  when  it 
was  occupied  by  peshachas  (demons). 

Ultimately  the  people,  through  Nilanaga’s  favour,  got 
rid  of  these  demons,  on  condition  that  the  people  per- 
formed certain  rites  and  ceremonies  for  the  good  of  these 
demons,  during  winter  months,  and  thus  the  country 

67 


Kashmir,  Ancient  Modern 

became  inhabitable  throughout  the  year.  These  rites 
are  still  performed  by  the  Hindus  of  Kashmir.  They 
are: 

1.  Kechi  Mavas. — It  occurs  in  the  month  of  January. 
A sort  of  pudding,  or  polao,  is  cooked,  and  in  an  earthen 
tray  is  placed  in  the  middle  of  the  compound  for  the 
demons.  A line  is  drawn  round  the  whole  house  with 
lime.  It  is  believed  that  these  demons  have  no  power  to 
step  over  this  magical  line. 

2.  Gada  Bata. — The  Hindus  cook  rice  and  fish  in  the 
dark  fortnight  of  January.  A big  bowl  full  of  rice  and 
fish,  both  cooked  and  uncooked,  is  placed  in  the  uppermost 
storey  of  the  house.  A lamp  is  kept  burning  and  no  one 
is  allowed  to  sleep  in  that  place.  The  cats  generally 
enjoy  a good  feast.  In  the  morning  the  members  of  the 
family  go  up  to  inspect  the  place,  and  they  are  satisfied  to 
see  the  bowl  empty,  thinking  it  has  been  eaten  by  the 
demons. 

3.  Kawa  Punim. — This  ceremony  is  generally  performed 
in  the  month  of  February.  Rice  is  cooked  and  formed 
into  balls.  These  balls  of  rice  are  placed  in  a kind  of 
big  spoon  made  of  twigs  and  grass,  and  are  put  in  a 
prominent  place  in  the  house  for  the  goblins  in  the  shape 
of  crows.  The  children  recite  this  lullaby:  “Come!  O 
you  crows  which  are  very  fond  of  pudding;  bathe  in 
the  waters  of  Gangabal ; put  on  a teka  of  brown  clay, 
bring  your  she-crows  with  you,  perch  yourselves  on  the 
eaves  of  our  houses  and  enjoy  a good  feast.” 

Geological  observations  prove  the  former  existence  of 
a great  lake.  The  lacustrine  deposits  are  undoubtedly 
found  in  the  karewa  plateaux  everywhere.  Ancient 
Kashmir  has  long  been  under  the  sway  of  various  bona 
fide  rajas.  The  first  raja  that  appears  on  the  pages  of 
documentary  tradition  is  Adgonand,  who  ascended  the 

68 


Kashmir,  Ancient  &?  Modern 

throne  in  4249  b.c.,  at  a time  when  Egypt  was  ruled  by 
demigods.  lie  was  succeeded  by  his  son  Danudar,  who 
was  killed  by  the  Yadhus,  the  tribe  to  which  Krishna 
belonged. 

Buddhism  was  introduced  into  Kashmir  by  Asoka  in 
308  b.c.  The  founder  of  this  religion  was  Sakhi  Muni 
Gaotam,  later  on  called  Buddha.  He  was  a prince  of 
a secluded  kingdom  near  Nepal,  and  lived  about  the  time 
of  the  “Captivity  of  the  Jews.”  Raja  Jaluki,  the  grand- 
son of  Asoka  and  the  conqueror  of  Bactria,  spread  this 
faith  all  over  the  country.  Buddhist  missionaries  were 
sent  to  India  to  teach  them  “The  Way.” 

The  Tartars  invaded  the  valley  about  the  commence- 
ment of  our  era.  Three  of  their  kings  are  supposed  to 
have  ruled  simultaneously.  They  are : Hushka,  who 
founded  Aushkar  near  Badgam ; Zashka,  who  founded 
Zukar  near  the  Nasim  Bagh,  and  Kanishka,  who  founded 
Kanspur.  These  kings  were  very  popular  in  Kashmir. 

Kashmir  was  under  the  rule  of  white  Huns  during 
the  first  half  of  the  sixth  century,  about  the  time  of 
the  conquest  of  England  by  the  Saxons.  Their  king, 
Mehrakula,  was  notorious  for  his  cruelty  and  violence. 
Buddhism  declined  during  the  time  of  Shankracharya  in 
the  eighth  century. 

The  Mohammedan  adventurers  began  to  invade  the 
country  in  the  beginning  of  the  eleventh  century.  Mahmud 
of  Ghuzni  invaded  Kashmir  in  1015,  via  Tosa  Maidan, 
but  was  repulsed  by  the  Kashmir  troops.  The  famous 
historian  Albruni  was  present  with  Mahmud.  The  first 
Mohammedan  king  of  Kashmir  was  Renchan  Shah,  who 
ascended  the  throne  in  1341.  He  was  a Tibetan,  and 
had  come  to  Kashmir  in  childhood.  He  wanted  to 
become  a Hindu,  but  the  Brahmans  would  not  admit  him 
to  their  religion,  so  he  was  forced  to  receive  the  tenets 

69 


Kashmir,  Ancient  Modern 

of  Islam  from  a Mohammedan  fakir  named  Bulbul  Shah, 
whose  ziarat  is  still  in  existence,  and  a part  of  the  city. 
Bulbul  Lanker,  is  still  called  after  his  name.  Renchan 
Shah  afterwards  forced  the  haughty  Brahmans  to  become 
Mohammedans.  This  Renchan  Shah  was  a contemporary 
of  Edward  III.  of  England. 

From  the  time  of  Renchan  Shah  up  to  the  time  of 
Sultan  C)utub-ud-Din  Kashmir  enjoyed  considerable 
peace.  During  the  reign  of  this  sultan,  in  a.d.  1395, 
Syid  Ali  Hamdani,  commonly  called  Shah  Hamdan,  arrived 
in  Kashmir.  This  man  had  fled  from  Hamdan,  a town 
in  Persia,  to  save  himself  from  the  hands  of  the  Mogul 
Emperor  Tumerlane.  The  story  of  this  event  is  thus 
briefly  told  : 

Tumerlane,  like  many  Oriental  monarchs,  was  in  the 
habit  of  going  round  his  capital  cities  at  night,  in  dis- 
guise, in  order  to  find  out  for  himself  the  condition  of 
his  subjects  and  their  opinion  about  him. 

One  night  he  stood  outside  the  house  of  a very  poor 
man.  His  children  were  weeping  for  want  of  food  and 
his  wife  was  in  a very  miserable  condition.  In  her  plight 
she  implored  her  husband  to  go  out  and  beg  food  for 
the  children,  but  the  man,  being  a respectable  person, 
was  unwilling  to  beg.  Tumerlane,  overhearing  their  con- 
versation, was  sorry  for  them,  and  quietly  threw  a few 
gold  mohurs  into  the  house. 

In  the  morning  the  woman  of  the  house  was  overjoyed 
to  find  the  pieces  of  gold  lying  on  the  floor.  Her  husband 
bought  some  food  and  fed  his  children,  his  wife  and 
himself. 

His  neighbours,  seeing  them  eating  good  food,  guessed 
that  they  might  have  stolen  the  money.  They  brought  a 
charge  of  theft  against  this  poor  man,  and  being  Syids — 
/'.<?.  descendants  of  Ali,  the  son-in-law  of  the  Prophet — they 

70 


Kashmir,  Ancient  Modern 

would  have  very  easily  succeeded  in  getting  him  punished 
and  tortured.  But  happily  the  King  came  to  know  about 
this  so-called  theft ; so  he  summoned  both  the  parties 
before  him.  The  accused  told  him  the  whole  truth, 
which  of  course  the  King  knew  himself.  The  Syids  con- 
tradicted his  statement,  and  declared  on  oath  that  they 
had  really  been  robbed  of  the  money.  The  King  was 
furious,  and  he  ordered  a horse  of  seven  metals  to  be 
made.  He  made  it  red-hot  and  ordered  all  the  Syids  to 
ride  it  in  order  to  prove  that  they  were  truly  Syids, 
because  according  to  Mohammedan  tradition  fire  cannot 
harm  the  Syids.  In  this  way  those  Syids  who  obeyed 
the  order  of  the  King  were  burnt  to  death,  and  those 
who  disobeyed  him  were  killed  by  his  soldiers.  But  Syid 
Ali  Hamdani  managed  to  escape  this  ordeal,  and  he  fled 
to  Kashmir.  It  was  through  his  and  his  son’s  instigation 
that  the  Hindus  of  Kashmir  were  ruthlessly  persecuted 
by  Qutub-ud-Din  and  his  successor,  Sikandar  the  Idol 
Breaker.  Hundreds  were  converted  to  Islam  by  force, 
hundreds  of  those  who  refused  were  put  to  the  sword. 
Sikandar  destroyed  all  their  sacred  places  and  monuments 
of  historical  importance.  With  the  material  he  built 
mosques  and  ziarats  in  various  places.  Shah  Hamdan  is 
believed  to  be  a great  saint  by  the  Sunni  Mohammedans 
of  Kashmir,  and  his  ziarat,  which  was  originally  built  by 
Qutub-ud-Din,  is  still  seen  below  the  Third  Bridge,  in  the 
city. 

Sikandar’s  son,  Ali  Shah,  who  ascended  the  throne  in 
1435,  and  who  was  the  contemporary  of  Henry  VI.  of 
England,  completed  the  work  of  destruction  which  his 
father  had  undertaken.  During  his  reign  hundreds  of 
Hindus  committed  suicide.  Scores  set  fire  to  their  own 
houses  and  burnt  themselves  and  their  families  alive, 
and  many  drowned  themselves  in  different  wells  to  save 

71 


Kashmir,  Ancient  §P  Modern 

their  dharama  (religion).  Some  tried  to  escape  with 
their  children  to  foreign  countries,  but  their  movements 
were  watched  and  the  passes  were  guarded,  so  they 
killed  themselves  by  throwing  themselves  over  precipices. 

Those  who  were  left  to  their  fate  and  were  still  alive 
enjoyed  some  respite  during  the  reign  of  Ali  Shah’s 
son,  Zain-ul- Abidin.  He  was  a good  and  humane  ruler. 
It  was  he  who  induced  the  Hindus  to  study  Persian 
and  accept  Government  posts.  So  during  his  time  the 
Hindu  community  was  split  into  two  sections — those  who 
accepted  Government  posts  and  those  wrho  still  clung  to 
their  own  shastras.  The  former,  from  that  time,  were 
called  Karkuns  (Government  servants)  and  the  latter 
Peruhets  (priests).  It  w^as  Zain-ul-Abidin  who  introduced 
the  art  of  weaving  Kashmir  shawls  and  making  paper. 
Up  to  his  time  the  Hindu  scribes  used  to  write  their 
scriptures  on  birch-bark. 

From  his  time  to  the  time  of  Akbar  the  Great,  Kashmir 
was  ruled  by  different  Mohammedan  kings,  both  native 
and  foreign.  During  their  rule  the  poor  Hindus,  the 
victims  of  their  WTath,  were  more  or  less  harassed  and 
embarrassed.  They  pillaged  their  houses,  oppressed  them 
without  scruple  and  insulted  them  without  compunction. 
Akbar  w^as  the  contemporary  of  “Queen  Bess”  of 
England.  He  conquered  Kashmir  in  1 587.  He  built 
the  wall  round  Hari  Parbat  Hill  in  the  city.  Throughout 
the  Mogul  period  the  Hindus  enjoyed  some  security  of 
person  and  property.  They  were  entrusted  with  high 
Government  posts.  It  was  Akbar  who  was  pleased  w-ith 
their  erudition  and  intelligence  and  gave  them  the  surname 
of  Pandits  (learned  men). 

During  the  reign  of  his  son  Jahangir,  who  laid  out 
many  lovely  gardens  and  villas  in  Kashmir,  the  Subadar 
of  this  place  was  enamoured  by  the  beauty  of  a Hindu 

72 


Kashmir,  Ancient  & Modern 

girl.  When  he  could  not  obtain  her  consent  without 
making  trouble  he  had  resource  to  a clever  trick,  as  he 
thought.  He  persuaded  an  old  Mohammedan  woman  to 
appear  veiled  before  his  court  and  she,  personating  the 
aforesaid  Hindu  girl,  professed  her  love  for  the  Subadar 
and  was  ready  to  marry  him,  but  wras  prevented  by  her 
father  under  the  influence  of  his  co-religionists.  The 
Subadar  obtained  a rewayet  (order)  from  the  mullahs 
permitting  him  to  marry  the  girl  without  her  father’s 
consent.  He  then  sent  troops  to  the  house  of  the 
innocent  girl  to  seize  her  by  force  and  bring  her  to  his 
harem.  His  orders  wrere  promptly  executed.  The  father 
of  the  girl  wras  a discreet  person.  He  made  no  fuss  but, 
through  his  daughter,  requested  the  Subadar  to  wait  six 
months,  which  he  readily  agreed  to,  from  the  fear  of  the 
King.  Meamvhile  her  father  quietly  set  out  for  Agra,  to 
Jahangir.  When  he  reached  the  palace  he  rang  the  bell 
which  Jahangir  had  attached  to  his  private  chambers  and 
told  the  Emperor  the  whole  story  of  this  villainy.  Jahangir, 
ease-loving  as  he  was,  at  once  mounted  his  famous  drome- 
dary and,  attended  by  a few  of  his  bodyguard,  journeyed 
to  Kashmir  in  disguise.  When  he  reached  Srinagar  he 
went  straight  to  the  house  of  the  Mohammedan  woman 
who  had  personated  the  Hindu  girl,  and  pretending  to  be 
a foreigner,  and  giving  her  some  pieces  of  gold  to  prepare 
some  food  for  him,  he  made  her  relate  the  whole  story. 
The  Emperor  spent  the  night  in  her  house.  In  the  morn- 
ing he  put  on  his  Court  dress  and  went  to  the  imperial 
palace.  It  was  at  once  rumoured  that  the  Emperor  was 
there.  The  Subadar  and  other  high  officials,  in  consterna- 
tion, presented  themselves  and  paid  their  homage  to  their 
liege  lord. 

The  Emperor  as  usual  asked  them  if  all  was  well,  and 
while  this  conversation  w^as  proceeding,  the  Hindu,  as 

73 


Kashmir,  Ancient  Modern 

prearranged,  submitted  his  complaint  against  the  Subadar. 
As  a matter  of  course  the  Subadar  tried  to  convince  the 
King  that  the  kafir  (infidel)  had  told  abominable  lies  and 
put  before  the  King  the  futwa  (decree)  of  the  mullahs. 
The  King  at  once  summoned  the  woman  in  whose  house 
he  had  passed  the  night.  The  woman  at  once  recognised 
her  guest  and  she,  without  any  hesitation,  divulged  the 
whole  secret  before  all  the  courtiers.  The  Subadar  was 
dumbfounded.  The  Emperor  summoned  all  the  mullahs. 
They  too  could  do  naught  but  confess  their  crime.  Then 
and  there  Jahangir  struck  off  the  head  of  the  sinful 
Subadar  with  his  own  hand.  He  arrested  all  the  mullahs 
and  had  them  led  in  chains  to  a place  outside  Akbar’s 
wall,  round  Hari  Parbat,  and  there  had  them  blown  to 
pieces  from  a big  gun.  They  were  buried,  without  any 
funeral  rites,  in  the  same  place.  From  that  time  the  place 
received  the  name  of  Mullah  Khah.  Jahangir’s  son,  Shah 
Jahan,  built  many  palaces  and  laid  out  many  gardens  in 
the  Happy  Valley.  His  son,  Aurangzeb,  who  ascended 
the  throne  in  1658,  and  who  was  the  contemporary  of 
Charles  II.,  James  II.  and  William  III.  of  England,  again 
began  to  persecute  the  Hindus  in  Kashmir  and  elsewhere. 

Kashmir  remained  under  the  tyranny  of  the  Mogul 
Subadars  up  to  the  year  1751,  when  it  was  conquered  by 
Ahmad  Shan  Durani,  who  assassinated  his  own  master, 
Nadir  Shah,  soon  after  1738.  With  this  murderer  and 
his  Afghan  successors  returned  the  evil  days  of  the 
Hindus. 

It  remained  for  these  Afghans  to  continue  the  work  of 
spoliation  and  slaughter  already  begun.  They  collected 
all  the  religious  scriptures  of  the  Hindus.  With  these 
they  constructed  a bund,  called  Mussuth,  which  is  still 
extant.  When  they  were  tired  of  killing  so  many  people 
with  the  sword,  they  put  them  into  bags  and  drowned 

74 


Kashmir,  Ancient  & Modern 

them  in  the  Dal  Lake.  The  place  where  these  atrocities 
were  committed  is  still  called  Batta  Mazir  (the  graveyard 
of  the  Hindus). 

Their  houses  were  ransacked,  they  were  freely  tortured 
to  accept  Islam,  and  their  women  were  taken  awray  from 
them  and  used  as  concubines.  Numbers  of  the  poor 
Hindus  died  of  ill-usage  or  slewr  themselves  to  avoid  it. 
They  were  not  allowed  to  put  on  their  turbans.  If  they 
appeared  in  a public  street  any  Mohammedan  could  ride 
on  their  backs  and  force  them  to  carry  him  a certain 
distance.  This  was  called  Khos. 

This  reign  of  terror  lasted  till  1820,  when  Ranjit  Singh, 
the  Raja  of  the  Punjab,  conquered  Kashmir,  and  rescued 
the  remaining  handful  of  the  Hindus  from  the  claw's  of 
their  oppressors.  To  take  revenge  the  Sikhs  in  their 
turn  persecuted  the  Mohammedans.  During  this  time 
the  Mohammedans  could  not  freely  offer  prayers. 

After  the  first  Sikh  war  Kashmir  was  ceded  to  the 
British,  who  sold  it  to  Maharajah  Gulab  Singh  in  1846. 
The  grandson  of  this  Raja  is  the  present  Maharajah  of 
Kashmir. 

His  Highness  the  Maharajah  General  Sir  Pratab  Singh, 
who  ascended  the  Gadhi  in  the  year  1 886,  is  ruler  over 
a large  tract  of  country  the  size  of  England  and  Scotland, 
which  includes,  besides  the  Vale  of  Kashmir,  Jummu, 
Poonch,  Ladakh,  Baltistan  and  all  the  states  included 
in  the  Gilgit  Agency,  with  a population  of  over  three 
millions.  His  Highness  is  aided  in  the  government  of 
his  state  by  three  ministers — the  Chief,  Revenue  and 
Home  Minister,  men  who  have  been  selected  by  the 
Indian  Government  and  approved  of  by  his  Highness. 

Then  there  is  the  British  Resident,  who  is  the  King’s 
representative  and  has  the  assistance  of  other  British 
officers.  One  is  his  personal  assistant.  There  are  also 

75 


Kashmir,  Ancient  Modern 

the  Resident  of  Poonch  State,  the  Resident  of  Ladakh  and 
Baltistan  and  the  Agent  of  Gilgit,  which  includes  all  the 
mountain  states,  Chilas,  Hunzar  Nagar,  etc.  Since  the 
year  1890  there  have  been  thirteen  Residents.  On  my 
arrival  here  Colonel  Parry  Nisbet  was  the  Resident,  and 
a great  personality  he  was,  for  it  was  through  his  tact 
and  energy  that  the  Jhelum  Valley  cart-road  was  cut 
along  the  mountain-sides  from  Domel  to  Baramulla,  a 
magnificent  piece  of  engineering,  the  work  of  the  State 
Engineer,  Mr  Alkinson,  and  carried  through  by  Spedding 
& Co.,  contractors. 

The  Resident’s  position  is  not  altogether  an  easy  one, 
for  it  is  one  requiring  much  tact,  patience  and  courage. 

It  would  be  invidious  to  single  out  those  who  have 
done  especially  good  work.  Some  of  course  have 
possessed  stronger  characters  than  others,  and  have  con- 
sequently left  their  mark  for  good  on  the  country,  and 
their  memory  in  the  hearts  of  the  people. 

There  are  also  British  advisers  in  the  various  depart- 
ments of  the  State,  such  as  the  Army,  P.W.D. 
Accountants,  Land  Settlement,  etc. 

The  heir  to  the  Gadhi  is  General  Prince  Sir  Hari 
Singh,  K.C.S.I.,  son  of  the  late  Sir  Raja  Amar  Singh,  who 
was  a man  of  power.  The  young  Prince  is  a sportsman, 
and  possesses  a keen  sense  of  justice  and  plenty  of 
common  sense. 


76 


CHAPTER  VI 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  KASHMIRIS 

O write  about  the  character  of  the  Kashmiris  is 


not  easy,  as  the  country  of  Kashmir,  including 


the  province  of  Jummu,  is  large  and  contains  many 


races  of  people.  Then,  again,  these  various  countries 
included  under  the  name  of  Kashmir  are  separated  the 
one  from  the  other  by  high  mountain  passes,  so  that  the 
people  of  these  various  states  differ  considerably  the  one 
from  the  other  in  features,  manners,  customs,  language, 
character  and  religion. 

The  people  of  Jummu  province  are  Dogras,  cousins 
of  the  Rajputs,  and  talk  Punjabi.  As  their  country  is  on 
the  lower  slopes  of  the  mountains,  and  not  in  the  plains, 
the  people  are  a sturdy  race  and  good  fighters.  The 
Maharajah’s  army  is  chiefly  composed  of  these  men,  and 
our  Indian  army  contains  many  Dogra  regiments.  The 
Kashmiri  Dogra  regiments  behaved  splendidly  in  the 
East  African  campaign,  and  won  a great  name  for  them- 
selves. Jummu  is  the  winter  capital  of  his  Highness  Sir 
Pratab  Singh,  K.C.S.I.,  etc.,  Maharajah  of  Jummu  and 
Kashmir,  and  not  to  be  confused  with  Sir  Pratab  Singh, 
Maharajah  of  Idar,  whose  name  and  picture  figured  so 
often  in  the  papers  during  the  war.  This  town  is  situated 
on  the  top  of  a high  cliff  overlooking  the  River  Ravi,  a 
most  imposing-looking  town  from  a distance  on  account 
of  its  many  temple  domes  sparkling  in  the  bright  sunlight. 
Jummu  is  strongly  Hindu.  The  late  Maharajah  wished  to 
make  his  capital  a second  Benares,  which  is  the  Mecca  of 


77 


Character  of  the  Kashmiris 

the  Hindus.  The  Dogras  are  Kishatrias,  or  the  soldier 
caste,  next  below  the  Brahmans  in  caste.  The  people  of 
Poonch  state  are  very  similar  in  build  and  physique  to 
the  Dogras;  they  are  sturdy  mountaineers.  Poonch  state 
gave  more  recruits  for  the  Indian  army  than  any  other 
part  of  the  Indian  Empire.  They  are  Mohammedans. 
The  people  in  the  country  of  Ladakh,  or  Lesser  Tibet, 
are  Mongolians,  and  Buddhists  by  religion,  sturdy,  hard- 
working and  cheery  people. 

I have  alreadymentioned  the  inhabitants  of  the  mountains 
on  the  frontier,  so  now,  having  cleared  the  ground  some- 
what, we  can  discuss  the  character  of  the  inhabitants  of 
the  valley.  It  is  with  these  people  that  the  Europeans 
who  visit  this  country  are  chiefly  concerned  : servants, 
coolies,  boatmen,  shopkeepers,  clerks,  merchants,  etc. 

So  when  people  speak  of  the  Kashmiri  they  have  these 
particular  classes  of  people  in  their  minds.  To  call  a man 
a “ Kashmiri  ” is  a term  of  abuse,  for  it  stands  for  a coward 
and  a rogue,  and  much  else  of  an  unpleasant  nature.  For 
instance,  when  giving  a servant  a character,  a man  whom 
you  are  dismissing  and  could  not  possibly  recommend,  you 
write : “ This  man  is  a good  specimen  of  a Kashmiri.” 
Everyone  understands  that  such  a man  is  not  fit  for 
employment. 

I had  written  a character  for  an  unsatisfactory  scholar 
who  bothered  me  for  a “chit.”  I wrote  in  it  that  this 
young  man  was  an  excellent  specimen  of  a Kashmiri 
Pandit.  A few  days  later  his  elder  brother  called  upon 
me  and  begged  me  to  write  another  chit  for  his  brother 
as  he  could  not  obtain  employment  with  that  chit.  On 
asking  him  his  reason  for  thinking  so,  he  said : “ You  have 
written  that  ‘ he  is  an  excellent  specimen  of  a Kashmiri 
Pandit.’  Everyone  knows  the  meaning  of  this  and  will 
not  employ  him.”  So  I answered  his  request,  and  in  place  I 

78 


Character  of  the  Kashmiris 

wrote,  “ This  young  man  has  a slice  of  the  ‘ reynard  ’ in 
him.”  So  the  brother  left  comforted. 

I hate  having  to  write  thus  of  the  Kashmiri,  as  I am 
really  very  fond  of  him.  I can  name  scores  as  my  friends. 
Many  have  stood  by  me  in  dangers  and  difficulties,  and 
a few  have  suffered  for  me,  and  I know  many  who  have 
risked  their  lives  in  saving  life,  from  drowning  and  other 
causes,  so  that  I look  upon  them  as  heroes  and  true 
gentlemen,  and  all  the  more  so  on  account  of  their 
adverse  surroundings  and  environments.  Yet,  to  be 
truthful,  and  I do  not  believe  in  writing  lies,  I must  say 
that  the  ordinary  Kashmiri  such  as  I have  known  for 
thirty  years  is  a coward,  a man  wdth  no  self-respect  and 
deceitful  to  a degree,  and  I perhaps  may  write  with  a 
clear  conscience,  for  I have  told  this  to  all  classes  of 
them  to  their  faces  times  w'ithout  number,  and,  to  give 
them  all  credit,  they  never  resent  it,  because  they  know 
it  is  true.  Instances  of  cowardice,  deceit  and  villainy  I 
could  give  ad  nauseam , and  so  can  everyone  who  knows 
Kashmir. 

But  why  are  they  so  different  from  the  people  living 
around  them?  Because  they  happen  to  live  in  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  countries  on  earth,  and  therefore  other 
people  have  coveted  it.  Kashmir  has  been  conquered 
and  reconquered  by  invaders,  who  have  murdered, 
oppressed  and  enslaved  their  ancestors,  and  so  ground 
the  life  and  heart  out  of  them  that  their  better  selves 
have  been  crushed.  It  is  quite  possible  that  if  w^e 
Britishers  had  had  to  undergo  what  the  Kashmiris  have 
suffered  in  the  past  we  might  have  lost  our  manhood.  I 
recall  instances  in  my  own  school  life  when  boys  have 
been  severely  bullied  and  so  lost  their  manhood,  for 
their  better  self  had  been  crushed  out  of  them.  But, 
thank  God,  it  has  been  otherwise  with  us  and  other 

79 


Character  of  the  Kashmiris 

Western  nations,  for  to  us  instead  has  been  given  the 
opportunity  of  helping  some  of  the  weaker  peoples  of  the 
world,  and  the  Kashmiri  among  them.  May  we  ever  be 
true  to  our  trust. 

Gradually  are  the  Kashmiris  rising  from  slavery  to 
manhood,  though  the  growth  is  naturally  very  slow  at 
present,  but  they  are  on  the  upward  road ; I shall  later 
on  prove  to  you  that  ere  long  they  will  find  themselves, 
and  I trust  become  once  more  a brave  people,  as  they 
were  in  the  days  of  old  when  their  own  kings  led  them 
forth  to  battle. 

I am  writing  of  things  as  they  are,  and  hence  I shall 
have  to  speak  unpleasant  truths  maybe,  for  I am  no 
believer  in  veiling  the  truth  or  playing  to  the  gallery. 

The  Kashmiris  have  a virtue,  a very  important  one — 
viz.  the  saving  grace  of  humour.  Sir  Walter  Lawrence, 
who  was  such  a blessing  to  the  tillers  of  the  soil 
when  he  was  the  Land  Commissioner  thirty  years  ago, 
was  on  tour  in  the  district,  and  on  entering  a village  he 
saw  a man  standing  on  his  head.  On  asking  him  the 
reason  for  taking  that  uncomfortable  position,  the  man 
said  that  his  family  matters  were  in  such  an  utter  muddle 
that  he  did  not  know  whether  he  was  standing  on  his 
head  or  on  his  feet.  I did  not  hear  the  end  of  the 
story,  but  I feel  certain  that  the  Commissioner  Sahib 
put  him  right  side  up  and  helped  him  to  find  himself, 
for  he  had  great  sympathy  with  these  downtrodden 
cultivators  of  the  soil.  They  are  all  Mohammedans,  and 
all  the  officials  in  those  days  were  Hindus. 

My  wife  and  I were  travelling  one  summer  in  the 
valley  and  having  arrived  at  a village  toward  evening  we 
pitched  our  tents.  Then  we  sent  for  the  “Chowkidar” 
of  the  village  to  ask  him  to  supply  us  with  the  usual 
necessaries,  the  most  important  being  milk  for  our  baby 

80 


Character  of  the  Kashmiris 

boy,  who  was  making  his  wants  known  in  the  manner 
usual  to  babies.  The  C-howkidar  appeared  carrying  his 
spear  with  a flag  upon  it,  this  being  his  wand  of  office. 
I told  him  of  our  needs,  and  asked  him  to  let  us  have 
some  milk  for  the  child  as  soon  as  possible.  He  answered, 
saying  that  he  was  very  sorry  but  there  was  not  a drop 
of  milk  in  the  village.  So  I asked  him  what  the  babies 
of  his  village  drank,  and  he  said:  “They  always  drink 
water.”  So  I told  him  not  to  be  a fool,  but  to  bring 
the  milk.  He  answered : “ How  can  I,  for  there  are  no 
cows  in  the  village?”  At  that  moment  I happened  to 
catch  sight  of  one  of  the  cow  tribe  feeding  on  the  village 
green.  I said  to  him : “ What  animal  is  that  ? ” pointing 
to  it.  “Can  it  be  a bear?”  “No,  Sahib,”  said  he,  “ it 
is  not  a bear,  it  is  a cow ; but  all  our  cows  are  out  of  milk.” 
I then  said  to  him:  “Well,  what  about  eggs?”  To  this 
he  replied  : “ There  are  no  hens  in  the  village.”  At  that 
moment  a cock  crew,  so  I asked  him : “ What  noise  is 
that?  Is  that  the  voice  of  an  eagle?”  “ No,”  said  he. 
“True,  O Sahib,  it  is  a cock’s  voice.”  “Well,  then,  be 
off  quick  and  bring  us  eggs.”  “ I am  very  sorry,”  said 
he,  “ I cannot  do  that  either,  for  all  the  fowl  in  this 
village  happen  to  be  cocks.”  And  he  added  : “ We  have 
nothing  in  this  village.” 

By  this  time  I was  getting  impatient,  as  our  baby  boy 
was  crying  and  my  wife  anxious  to  give  him  his  tea,  so 
I said  to  the  Chowkidar : “ Look,  what  bird  is  that  ? ” 
pointing  up  to  a kite  soaring  overhead.  As  his  eyes 
went  aloft  I seized  the  spear  out  of  his  hand  and  turned 
it  on  that  part  of  his  person  which  he  uses  when  he 
happens  to  sit  down,  saying  at  the  same  time : “ Milk ! 
Eggs ! ” The  scene  changed  immediately,  for  the 
Chowkidar  was  off  at  full  speed  to  the  village,  shouting 
“ blue  murder,”  and  I hard  at  his  heels  until  we  entered 

81 


F 


Character  of  the  Kashmiris 

the  village  gate,  where  I posted  myself  with  the  spear 
and  told  him  to  look  sharp.  I had  not  long  to  wait,  for 
within  ten  minutes  he  was  back,  loaded  with  milk,  eggs 
and  chickens,  and  grinning  from  ear  to  ear  as  he  motioned 
me  to  return  to  the  camp,  whilst  he  came  on  behind 
carrying  the  provender,  so  immediately  all  was  peace 
and  happiness.  The  baby  enjoyed  his  tea,  my  wife’s 
anxiety  was  dissipated,  the  Chowkidar  and  I laughed 
together  over  our  little  contretemps,  and  all  went  like 
a marriage  bell  whilst  we  remained  under  the  trees  of 
that  village,  for  the  Chowkidar  and  I understood  one 
another. 

On  a country  road  leading  up  a short,  steep  hill  I over- 
took a party  of  fourteen  coolies  carrying  sacks  of  grain 
on  their  backs.  They  were  evidently  very  tired,  for  they 
were  groaning  as  they  trudged  along;  it  was  towards 
evening  and  they  had  been  at  this  hard  labour  all  day. 
So  I went  up  to  one  of  them  who  was  an  undersized  man 
who  seemed  to  be  more  fagged  than  the  rest,  and  asked 
him  if  he  was  tired.  He  said:  “Yes,  very  tired  and 
ready  to  die,  if  not  already  dead.”  So  I told  him  to  get 
on  my  back,  as  I would  carry  him  on  my  back  up  the  hill. 
He  stared  at  me,  opening  his  mouth  and  eyes  very  wide, 
and  shook  his  head.  However,  I insisted,  and  made  him 
get  on  my  back  with  his  load,  for  I was  then  young  and 
fit.  I carried  him  to  the  top  of  the  hill  and  then  de- 
posited him  and  his  load,  whereupon  the  whole  gang, 
who  had  trudged  up  the  hill  with  me,  put  their  loads  on 
their  cross-bar  sticks  behind,  placed  their  legs  apart  and 
roared  and  roared  with  laughter,  and  when  they  had 
recovered  their  winds  started  off  again,  laughing  loudly, 
and  continued  to  do  so  till  out  of  hearing,  their  tiredness 
forgotten.  Kashmiris  can  laugh,  and  it  does  one  good 
to  hear  them. 


82 


Character  of  the  Kashmiris 

When  a Kashmiri  slips  up  and  falls  in  the  street  he 
will  as  often  as  not  join  in  the  laughter  of  those  around. 
I think  it  is  a fact  that  we  always  feel  inclined  to  laugh 
when  we  see  a human  fall,  but  never  when  an  animal 
does  so,  and  not  so  often  when  we  ourselves  come  down 
a cropper. 

Now  that  we  have  seen  a little  into  the  insides  of  the 
Kashmiris,  we  will  visit  their  great  town,  and  see  them 
at  their  daily  occupations,  and  their  ordinary  everyday  life 
on  the  river  and  in  the  streets. 

Srinagar,  or  Sirinagar,  which  means  “the  City  of 
Wealth,”  is  a most  picturesque  town,  stretching  for  three 
miles  on  both  sides  of  the  River  Jhelum,  the  divided  town 
being  united  by  seven  bridges. 

The  usual  remark  of  visitors  when  they  approach  the 
city  by  river  is  that  it  looks  like  a town  that  has  been 
bombarded,  or  has  suffered  from  earthquake,  as  so  many 
of  the  buildings  are  off  the  straight,  and  many  more  are 
in  sad  need  of  repair. 

I always  believe,  when  visiting  a new  place,  in  ascend- 
ing a height  near  by  in  order  to  secure  a bird’s-eye  view 
of  the  place  and  to  pick  up  one’s  bearings.  Such  a place 
is  at  hand,  a rocky  hill  1000  feet  high,  distant  from  the 
city  about  one  and  a half  miles,  called  Takht-i-Suliman, 
or,  in  plain  English,  the  throne  of  Solomon,  known  to  the 
Hindus  as  Shankara  Charaya,  or  the  holy  mountain.  On 
the  top  of  this  hill  is  a very  ancient  Hindu  temple ; it  was 
built  by  Raja  Sandiman,  who  ruled  Kashmir  during  the 
period  2629-2564  b.c.  It  was  repaired  by  Gopaditya 
(426-365  b.c.)  and  Lalitaditya  (a.d.  697-734)  and  other 
later  kings.  Sikandar  did  not  destroy  it  because  Sultan 
Mahmud  of  Ghazni  had  offered  his  prayers  in  it. 

From  this  perch  of  1000  feet  you  obtain  a splendid 
view  of  the  valley,  stretching  in  its  breadth  twenty  miles 

83 


Character  of  the  Kashmiris 

to  the  south,  right  up  to  the  Pir  Punjal  Mountains,  that 
great  wall  of  rock  running  up  to  peaks  of  1 500  and 
1600  feet,  the  dividing  wall  between  Kashmir  and  the 
Punjab. 

In  length  you  see  about  fifty  miles  up  east  and  fifty 
miles  down  the  river  west.  The  winding  Jhelum  river 
catches  your  eye  glittering  in  the  bright  sunlight,  with 
its  loops  and  turns,  which  is  said  to  have  given  the  idea 
of  the  Kashmir  pattern  on  the  famous  shawls.  Just  below 
your  feet,  on  the  south,  lies  the  European  quarter,  called 
the  Munshi  Bagh,  where  are  the  official  houses  and  the 
church.  Following  the  river  downwards  you  see  the 
European  Club,  then  the  Residency  in  its  beautifully 
wooded  grounds.  Farther  on  you  see  the  Post  Office, 
Cox  & Co.’s  Bank,  the  Alliance  Bank  of  Simla,  and 
European  agencies,  and  shops,  till  you  come  to  the 
Sheikh  Bagh,  where  are  houses  of  the  missionaries,  the 
European  cemetery  and  the  former  Residency  where 
dwelt  Sir  John  Lawrence  and  General  John  Nicholson 
when  they  were  British  Agents  in  Kashmir.  Then  the 
river  takes  its  last  bend  before  entering  the  city. 

Now  starting  again  looking  west,  at  the  foot  of  the  hill 
is  the  famous  Mission  Hospital,  then  open  ground  which 
includes  the  golf  course,  polo  and  cricket  grounds  and 
the  well-managed  hotel  of  Nedou  & Sons,  the  Roman 
Catholic  chapel  where  the  much  - respected  Father 
Boland  resides,  and  farther  on  the  State  College  in  its 
extensive  grounds.  The  various  roads  are  well  marked 
by  their  avenues  of  tall  poplar-trees  interspersed  here  and 
there  with  chinars,  and  then  the  city  in  the  distance 
stretching  right  and  left  along  the  river,  attractive  on 
account  of  its  mosque  minarets  and  Hindu  temples  with 
their  roofs,  which  are  a cross  between  a spire  and  a dome, 
sparkling  like  silver  in  the  sunlight,  though  the  would-be 

84 


A Canal  in  the  Dal. 


When  unruffled  this  waterway  mirrors  perfectly  the  green  and  gold  of  the  plane  tree, 
the  warm  browns  and  pinks  of  the  houses,  the  purple,  yellow  and  cherry-coloured  clothes  of 
the  women  and  children  who  play  and  gossip  on  its  banks  and  steps. 


Character  of  the  Kashmiris 

silver  is  generally  kerosene  oil  tins,  or  Huntley  & Palmer’s 
biscuit  tins,  flattened  out. 

On  the  north  side,  at  your  feet,  lies  the  city  lake  called 
the  Dal,  ever  beautiful  at  whatever  time  of  the  year  you 
view'  it.  Perhaps  the  springtime  is  the  most  beautiful, 
when  you  see  the  yellow  mustard-fields  interspersed  with 
the  pink  blossom  of  the  peach  and  apricot  trees,  and 
surrounded  by  the  vivid  greens  of  the  reeds  and  rushes, 
willow  and  poplar  trees,  backed  up  by  the  blue  mountains 
crested  with  snow,  all  these  colours  reflected  in  the  clear 
waters  of  the  lake.  One  always  finds  it  most  difficult  to 
tear  oneself  away  from  that  glorious  view. 

Looking  across  the  lake,  and  rising  as  it  were  out  of  it, 
on  the  east  side,  is  a rocky  hill  about  700  feet  in  height, 
called  Hari  Parbat.  On  the  top  stands  a large  Sikh  fort, 
which  frowns  over  the  city,  and  is  used  for  State  prisoners 
like  the  Tower  of  London.  From  this  fort  w'e  look  daily 
for  the  correct  time,  as  a gun  fires  at  midday,  at  ten 
o’clock  at  night  and  4 a.m.  in  the  morning. 

The  ten  o’clock  gun  is  the  curfew,  and  all  good 
citizens  are  supposed  to  be  in  bed,  and  no  one  is  allowed 
to  cross  the  bridges  in  the  city  after  gunfire.  The 
morning  gun  awakens  all  good  Mohammedans  for  theii 
morning  prayers. 

The  Hindus  of  Kashmir  call  Hari  Parbat  Sharika,  and 
the  Mohammedans  Koh-i-maran.  The  following  is  the 
legend  concerning  this  hill : — 

In  ancient  times  the  people  of  Kashmir  w'ere  very  much 
troubled  by  the  Daityas,  or  monsters  who  came  up  from 
the  nether  regions  through  a hole  at  this  spot.  So  they 
prayed  to  their  gods  to  save  them  from  this  nuisance,  and 
in  answer  to  their  prayers  the  wife  of  Shiva,  named 
Durga,  came  to  their  assistance.  She  transformed  her- 
self into  a sharika — i.e.  a maina — a very  common  bird  in 

85 


Character  of  the  Kashmiris 

Kashmir  about  the  size  of  a blackbird.  It  has  an  unpleasant 
note  not  unlike  the  squeaking  of  a wheelbarrow,  though 
it  can  be  taught  to  whistle  and  talk. 

She  then  descended  to  the  nether  regions  and  broke 
off  a piece  of  Meru,  the  sacred  mountain  in  that  country, 
and  carried  it  in  her  beak  and  dropped  it  on  to  the  top 
of  this  vent-hole  of  Hades  and  so  bottled  up  all  the 
Daityas,  and  thus  saved  the  people  of  Kashmir  from 
further  trouble. 

This  hill,  therefore,  is  the  Olympus  of  the  Hindus  of 
Kashmir  and  has  been  worshipped  from  time  immemorial. 
Its  eastern  slopes  are  now  occupied  by  the  ziarats  of 
Makhdum  Sahib  and  Akhun  Mala  Shah.  It  is  probable 
that  Mohammedan  shrines  have  here  taken  the  place  of 
Hindu  religious  buildings,  just  as  on  so  many  other  old 
sacred  sites  in  Kashmir. 

Close  to  the  foot  of  the  southern  extremity  of  the  hill 
is  a rock  which  from  anqient  times  has  been  worshipped 
as  an  embodiment  of  Maha  Ganisha  (the  elephant  god). 
It  is  said  that  when  Pravarasena  laid  the  foundation  of  his 
new  capital  (Srinagar)  the  god,  from  regard  for  the  pious 
king,  turned  his  face  from  west  to  east  so  as  to  behold 
and  bless  the  new  city.  The  rock  is  now  covered  with  so 
thick  a layer  of  red  paint  that  it  is  not  possible  to  trace 
any  resemblance  to  the  head  or  face  of  the  elephant  god, 
still  less  to  see  whether  it  is  turned  west  or  east.  The 
later  Hindu  chroniclers  relate  that  the  god,  from  disgust 
at  the  iconoclasm  of  Sikandar  Butshikan,  has  finally 
turned  his  back  on  the  city,  and  hence  his  face  cannot 
be  seen. 

There  is  nothing  in  the  traditional  writings  of  the 
locality  that  would  lead  us  to  assume  that  the  hill  of 
Sharika  was  ever  fortified  in  Hindu  times.  The  present 
fort  that  crowns  the  summit  of  the  hill  was  built  by  Ata 

86 


Character  of  the  Kashmiris 

Mohammed  Khan  in  1810.  From  time  to  time  there 
have  been  skirmishes  between  the  rival  princes  round  this 
fort.  But  battles  were  fought  at  the  commencement  of 
the  Dogra  regime  during  the  time  of  Maharajah  Ghulah 
Singh,  and  before  that  at  the  time  when  Ranjit  Singh’s 
generals  finally  routed  the  army  of  Jabar  Khan  and  drove 
him  out  of  the  country. 

The  great  stone  wall  which  encloses  the  hill  and  the 
ground  around  its  foot  was  built  by  Akbar  in  1590,3s 
an  inscription  still  extant  over  the  main  gate  proclaims. 

The  city  from  this  point  is  a most  quaint  sight,  especi- 
ally in  the  springtime,  for  it  gives  one  the  impression  of 
a vast  green  field  cut  up  in  small  patches  divided  by  dark 
irregular  lines.  The  roofs  are  covered  with  green  grass, 
and  certain  of  them  are  scarlet  with  poppies  or  tulips,  the 
streets  and  alleys  making  the  crooked  dividing  lines. 
Sometimes  the  delusion  is  increased  when  one  sees 
sheep  and  goats  feeding  on  these  airy  pastures ; I have 
even  seen  cows  on  their  exalted  pasturage.  Then  one 
notices  that  none  of  the  houses  have  chimneys,  the  roofs 
have  not  such  a steep  slope  as  tiled  or  slated  houses  have, 
hence  the  delusion  of  their  being  fields  is  all  the  greater. 
Formerly  the  roofs  were  mostly  thatched  with  rice  stalks 
or  reeds  from  the  lake,  but  this  fashion  was  the  cause  of 
such  disastrous  fires  that  the  authorities  will  not  permit 
any  new  house  to  have  a thatched  roof,  so,  as  most  of 
the  thatched  houses  have  been  burnt  out,  all  the  roofs 
you  now  see  are  of  mud  for  their  top  surface,  and  hence 
the  grass  and  flowers. 

The  roofs  are  made  thus : over  the  roof  rafters  are 
placed  planks,  and  upon  the  planks  are  spread  sheets  of 
birch  bark,  which  is  most  durable,  and  above  the  birch 
bark  is  spread  wet  earth  three  to  six  inches  thick  to  keep 
the  bark  in  its  place.  This  birch  bark  is  like  paper;  it 

87 


Character  of  the  Kashmiris 

comes  off  the  trees  in  closely  compressed  layers  much 
after  the  consistency  of  cardboard. 

This  birch  bark  has  been  used  for  ages  in  lieu  of 
paper;  the  books  of  old  were  made  of  this,  and  even  now 
many  shopmen  keep  their  accounts  upon  it,  and  always 
use  it  for  wrapping  up  their  wares  which  they  sell  to 
their  customers. 

The  drawback  to  these  mud  roofs  is  that  they  are  very 
heavy,  and  especially  so  when  there  is  a heavy  fall  of 
snow  followed  by  rain  in  the  night.  The  sodden  snow 
becomes  so  weighted  that  the  roof  falls  in,  with  fatal 
results  to  the  house  and  sleeping  inhabitants;  therefore 
every  house  possesses  a trap-door  on  the  roof,  so  that 
those  in  the  house  may  be  able  to  shovel  the  snow  off 
into  the  streets,  and  as  often  as  not  on  to  the  heads 
of  those  who  walk  in  them.  The  house  roofs  are  used 
for  several  purposes,  amongst  them  as  a drying-place  for 
rice  and  fruits,  and  when  in  the  autumn  red  chillies  are 
in  full  view  there  is  a fine  show  of  colour.  Then  the 
Mohammedans  use  their  roofs  for  prayer,  as  it  is  their 
custom  to  choose  vantage  points  where  they  can  be  seen 
at  prayer. 

I was  present  at  a big  fire  in  the  city  when  a mosque 
was  in  danger.  The  mullah,  an  old  man  wfith  a long 
grey  beard,  climbed  on  to  the  roof  of  the  mosque  with 
his  Koran,  from  which  he  commenced  to  read  aloud,  and 
earnestly  hoped  thereby  to  save  his  mosque.  But  it  was 
of  no  avail,  for  he  w'as  obliged  to  take  refuge  on  another 
roof,  and  then  on  to  another,  as  the  heat,  smoke  and  fire 
drove  him  from  one  vantage  point  to  another.  It  wfas 
a noble  effort  nevertheless,  and  grand  to  see  the  old 
man’s  pluck  and  faith  in  the  midst  of  disaster.  The  heat 
of  the  fire  seemed  to  create  a great  w'ind,  so  that  his  long 
grey  beard  was  blown  about  like  a flag,  and  his  earnest 

88 


Character  of  the  Kashmiris 

old  face  lit  up  by  the  flames,  and  one  could  at  times  hear 
his  voice  above  the  roar  of  the  flames  rolling  out  in 
Arabic  verse  after  verse  from  his  sacred  book.  Arabic 
being  the  sacred  language  of  the  Mohammedans,  the 
Koran  must  be  read  only  in  that  language. 

Having  seen  the  city  from  above,  we  will  now  come 
right  into  it  and  view  it  from  the  river.  We  will  take 
a boat  and  follow  the  river  under  the  seven  bridges. 

Our  boat  is  one  of  the  many  small  boats  called 
“ shikaras  ” which  ply  for  hire.  It  is  about  thirty  feet 
long,  something  like  a long  narrow  punt  with  long 
pointed  ends,  the  bows  sharper  than  the  stern,  both  ends 
rising  gradually  out  of  the  water.  They  are  most 
extraordinarily  easy  boats  to  steer,  as  they  draw  very 
little  water  bow  and  stern,  their  deepest  draught  being 
near  the  centre  of  the  boat,  hence  they  can  be  made  to 
spin  round  and  round  on  their  centre  with  ease.  This 
easy  handling  of  the  craft  is  most  useful  in  a crowded 
river.  These  boats  are  usually  propelled  by  three  or 
four  men  with  paddles,  the  blade  being  the  shape  of 
a lotus  leaf  or  a heart.  The  crew  sit  in  the  stern  of  the 
boat  facing  the  way  they  are  travelling;  the  passengers 
recline  in  the  centre  of  the  boat,  with  an  awning  of 
matting  over  their  heads  to  protect  them  from  the  sun 
or  rain. 

The  first  bridge  under  which  we  pass  is  a modern 
structure  of  five  arches,  the  piers  built  of  solid  masonry. 
This  bridge  some  twenty-five  years  ago  displaced  one 
of  the  old  cantilever  bridges  made  of  deodar  or  cedar 
logs,  which  was  at  one  time  covered  with  houses  and 
shops,  not  unlike  Old  London  Bridge.  These  bridges 
were  introduced  into  Kashmir  by  Alexander  the  Great’s 
officers,  and  most  excellent  bridges  for  wear  they  have 
proved  themselves  to  be. 


89 


Character  of  the  Kashmiris 

Just  below  this  bridge  on  the  left  bank  is  the  palace 
of  his  Highness  the  Maharajah — a great  pile  of  build- 
ings interesting  in  their  way,  but  not  exactly  beautiful. 
Under  the  palace  and  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river 
are  his  Highness’  barges,  chiefly  built  for  the  ladies 
of  his  zenana  when  they  travel  the  river  part  of  the 
journey  from  Jummu  to  Srinagar,  and  vice  versa.  The 
state  barge  is  a handsome  craft  with  much  scarlet  and 
gold  paint,  with  seats  for  sixty  paddlers.  There  are 
also  smaller  state  boats  called  “ parindas,”  or  birds,  with 
seats  for  thirty  paddlers,  which  are  used  for  short  trips, 
and  very  smart  they  look  with  the  scarlet  top  awning  and 
the  thirty  paddlers  in  scarlet  uniforms  paddling  as  they  do 
in  perfect  time  to  the  cry  of  their  captain.  He  stands  up 
on  the  foot-board  in  glorious  apparel  of  scarlet  and  gold, 
giving  his  orders  to  the  crew  as  to  time  and  stroke,  for 
the  strokes  are  many  and  varied,  and  some  with  great 
flourish  of  paddles  raised  on  high,  accompanied  with  much 
water  display.  Moored  to  the  bank  opposite  the  palace 
is  an  elegant  steam  launch  presented  to  his  Highness 
by  C)ueen  Victoria,  also  a modern  fast  motor  launch  from 
Thornycroft’s.  Below  where  these  boats  are  mooredi  s 
a handsome  flight  of  stone  steps  leading  to  a memorial 
stone  raised  to  the  late  Maharajah;  below  this  again  is 
the  State  Telegraph  Office,  which  can  be  amusing  as  well 
as  annoying  at  times. 

On  one  occasion  I went  to  the  office  to  lodge  a com- 
plaint on  account  of  a telegram  that  I had  sent  to  a 
friend  which  did  not  reach  him  for  a day  after  he  had 
received  a letter  that  I had  sent  him  at  the  same  time. 
The  official  tried  to  comfort  me  by  saying  that  if  I found 
that  the  post  travelled  quicker  than  telegraph  he  would 
advise  my  making  use  of  the  post  instead  of  the  telegraph 
wires.  I can  remember  the  time  when  we  could  not  even 


90 


Character  of  the  Kashmiris 

feel  quite  happy  when  making  use  of  the  post  office 
when  the  Kashmiri  stamps  were  in  use.  A friend  of 
mine  wishing  me  to  send  him  used  Kashmiri  stamps,  I 
directed  and  posted  to  myself  thirty  Kashmir  post  cards, 
out  of  which  lot  only  three  reached  me  to  send  to  my 
friend,  as  other  people  besides  my  friend  evidently 
wanted  Kashmiri  stamped  post  cards. 

In  those  days  if  you  wished  your  letters  to  reach  your 
friends  who  lived  in  Kashmir  it  was  wiser  not  to  put 
stamps  on  them,  for  the  postman  in  his  efforts  to  annex 
the  stamp  sometimes  made  a mess  of  the  envelope  and 
therefore  thought  it  wiser  not  to  deliver  it,  but  if  it  was 
not  stamped  the  receiver  had  to  pay  double  postage,  which 
was  profitable  to  the  postal  authorities.  In  those  days  I 
bought  several  sets  of  old  issue  stamps,  thinking  they 
would  be  valuable  later  on,  but  when  I wished  to  give 
or  sell  them  to  collectors  I was  informed  that  they  were 
reprints.  So  certain  people  connected  with  the  Post 
Office  must  have  amassed  some  wealth  in  printing  off  old 
issues  from  the  ancient  dies. 

I fear  Kashmiri  stamps  must  have  caused  stamp 
collectors  a good  deal  of  heart-searchings  from  the 
method  adopted  in  making  those  stamps.  The  stamp- 
maker  would  have  sheets  of  paper,  pots  of  paint  and  a 
brush  with  which  to  colour  the  paper.  As  the  pot  of 
paint  became  emptied  he  would  fill  up  the  pot  with  water, 
so  that,  supposing  he  was  making  red  stamps,  the  first 
sheets  would  be  a brilliant  red,  which  would  gradually 
become  very  faint  until  more  paint  was  put  into  the  pot 
to  thicken  it  up.  Thus  it  came  to  pass  that  stamp 
collectors  are  very  chary  about  accepting  Kashmir  stamps. 
A friend  of  mine  had  collected  a great  many  Kashmir 
stamps,  and  took  them  home  to  a stamp  dealer,  expecting 
to  make  a small  fortune.  The  dealer  looked  at  them 


91 


Character  of  the  Kashmiris 

carefully  and  then  asked  him  to  come  to  his  inner  room, 
the  walls  of  which  were  papered  with  stamps  which 
were  forgeries.  Pointing  to  the  wall,  he  said : “If  I 
take  your  Kashmir  stamps,  that  is  the  only  use  I can  make 
of  them.” 

In  those  past  years  the  business  of  making  forged  or 
reprint  stamps  was  so  great  that  a law  was  made  to  the 
effect  that  any  Kashmiri  found  selling  Kashmir  stamps 
would  be  punished  by  imprisonment,  and  certain  gentle- 
men who  persisted  in  this  fraud  were  put  under  lock  and 
key,  and  so  given  time  to  think  whether  it  was  worth 
while  carrying  on  this  particular  business.  I think  they 
must  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  not,  for 
now  it  is  not  easy  to  find  Kashmir  stamp  vendors. 

Outside  that  State  Telegraph  Office  and  all  down  the 
river  on  both  banks  are  lines  of  boats  of  all  sizes  moored, 
from  the  small  shikaras  propelled  by  one  paddler,  who  may 
be  a little  boy  or  girl  (for  they  commence  their  art  at  an 
early  age),  to  the  large  barges  in  which  are  cargoes  of 
rice  and  timber. 

Families  live  in  all  the  larger  craft,  and  there  is  much 
to  interest  the  traveller,  whether  he  be  a new-comer  or 
a resident.  It  is  always  entertaining,  for  the  boats  are 
crowded  with  life  of  all  sorts,  from  the  lord  and  master 
of  the  family  and  captain  of  the  boat  to  that  irritating 
creature  called  a flea. 

When  the  boats  are  moored  you  generally  see  the  men 
of  the  boat  sitting  in  the  stern  and  smoking  their  hookahs, 
or  playing  with  the  small  children,  whilst  their  women- 
folk are  at  work,  the  old  grandmother  at  her  spinning- 
wheel,  and  the  younger  women  preparing  the  food.  This 
to  the  passer-by  seems  always  to  be  in  the  preparing 
— i.e.  pounding  the  rice  on  the  bank  with  the  heavy 
pestle.  Others  scare  off  the  fowls  and  sparrows  which  are 

92 


Character  of  the  Kashmiris 

watching  their  opportunity  to  feed  off  the  rice  that  is 
spread  out  on  rush  mats  to  dry  in  the  sun.  Others,  again, 
are  with  their  long-handled  wooden  spoons  ladling  the 
water  out  of  the  germ-infected  river  into  the  rice-pot  that 
is  on  the  clay  stove  in  the  boat.  These  women  on  the 
bank  are  now  shouting  loudly  and  gesticulating  writh  their 
arms  and  cloths  to  frighten  away  a kite  which  has  taken 
a fancy  to  some  young  chickens,  and  at  that  moment  has 
made  a swoop  for  them,  whilst  their  mother  is  calling  aloud 
to  her  offspring  to  take  shelter  under  her  wings.  The 
kite,  having  been  balked  this  time,  flies  back  to  its  high 
branch  of  a tree  near  by  to  await  a more  favourable 
opportunity,  and  the  women  resume  their  preparations 
for  the  meal.  They  have  not  been  long  at  peace  when 
they  are  all  called  to  action  again,  for  a hungry  pariah 
dog  which  has  been  sniffing  with  his  nose  in  the  air 
behind  a stack  of  wood,  and  has  discovered  that  there  is 
something  interesting  in  the  boat,  has  stalked  cleverly  to 
the  boat  and  is  about  to  seize  a piece  of  goat  hanging  on 
a wooden  hook  from  the  roof  of  the  boat.  All  is  uproar 
and  rush  again,  but  the  meat  has  been  saved,  and  the  dog 
slinks  off'  with  his  tail  between  his  legs,  disappointed,  but 
not  disheartened,  for  he  has  more  patience  and  persistence 
than  those  w ho  walk  on  two  feet ; he  goes  off  and  lies 
down  in  a secluded  spot  and  pretends  to  be  asleep,  but 
he  is  not. 

All  is  peace  and  quiet  again,  so  much  so  that  a little 
flash  of  beauty  settles  on  one  of  the  poles  sticking  out 
from  the  boat ; it  is  a king  of  poachers,  the  blue  and 
green  kingfisher.  His  powerful  little  eye  has  seen  the 
flash  of  silver  in  the  shallow  water  close  to  the  bank. 
In  an  instant  he  has  disappeared  head-first  into  the  water 
and  comes  up  conqueror  to  the  pole  with  a wriggling  little 
fish,  which  he  gradually  works  round,  end  on,  head-first 

93 


Character  of  the  Kashmiris 

into  his  beak,  then  a big  swallow  or  two  and  the  fish  has 
gone  to  help  his  enemy  to  be  strong  to  catch  more  of  her 
family.  I have  always  noticed  that  kingfishers  are  far 
more  successful  in  securing  their  dinners  than  kites,  and 
are  certainly  in  better  condition  than  the  poor  pariah 
dogs. 

We  must  now  switch  our  eyes  off  animal  life  and  come 
back  to  our  boatman’s  family.  The  lord  and  master  of 
the  family  and  captain  of  the  boat,  who  has  been  quietly 
smoking  and  thinking  thoughts,  whilst  the  women  are 
preparing  his  meal  amid  the  usual  daily  excitement,  is 
now  aroused  to  anger  as  an  old  enemy  of  his  in  a passing 
boat  reminds  him  of  some  unpleasant  conversation  they 
had  had  when  last  they  met;  past  insults  are  raked  up 
and  curses  on  female  relatives  exchanged.  Now  a noisy 
battle  of  words  has  commenced,  which  soon  resolves  it- 
self into  a babel  of  voices,  for  the  women  of  both  boats 
have  joined  in  with  a will,  and  their  shrill  voices  are  heard 
well  above  those  of  the  menfolk. 

The  preparations  for  the  meal  are  forgotten  as  the 
crews  of  both  boats  are  standing  up  and  gesticulating 
with  their  arms  and  clenched  fists.  To  the  new-comer 
all  this  sounds  terrible  and  looks  as  if  a battle  royal  was 
imminent,  with  much  shedding  of  blood;  but  there  is  no 
fear  of  this,  for  of  all  the  many  boatman  fights  that  I have 
witnessed  I have  never  seen  one  boatman  hit  another;  it 
is  merely  a battle  of  words. 


94 


CHAPTER  VII 


MOHAMMEDANS  AND  HINDUS 

WHILE  the  two  boats  are  far  apart  the  men 
are  very  bold,  and  say  what  they  will  do  to 
one  another  if  they  could  but  come  to  grips. 
Then  when  one  of  the  boats  drifts  on  to  the  other,  so 
close  that  they  are  touching  one  another,  the  warriors 
turn  their  backs  upon  each  other  and  with  much  con- 
tempt say  that  they  would  not  defile  themselves  by 
touching  one  another  even  with  the  end  of  their  barge- 
pole ; or  when  someone  taunts  them  with  cowardice,  one 
will  grip  the  other  and  cry  out  to  his  wife,  saying  : “ Hold 
me!  hold  me!  or  I shall  commit  murder.”  Then  the 
wives,  screaming  all  the  while,  fall  upon  their  respective 
husbands,  who  allow  themselves  to  be  torn  apart.  The 
boats  now  swing  apart  again,  and  both  sides  take  a 
breather,  only  to  start  afresh. 

Often  this  noisy  battle  lasts  until  both  sides  are 
utterly  exhausted  and  their  voices  are  but  harsh  whispers. 
When  this  is  the  case  each  party  takes  its  basket  hen- 
coops, which  every  boat  possesses,  and  turn  them  upside 
down,  which  is  a sign  that  there  will  be  pax  for  the 
present,  and  this  peace  may  last  several  hours,  even  to  the 
next  day.  Then  when  one  of  the  parties  feels  refreshed, 
supposing  the  enemy  boat  has  not  moved  away,  he  will 
reverse  the  hen-coop  and  the  fight  will  be  renewed. 
These  hangi  fights  used  to  be  far  more  frequent  than 
they  are  now,  so  that  on  a trip  through  the  city  you 
were  entertained  by  several,  coming  in  for  the  different 

95 


Mohammedans  &?  Hindus 

phases  of  the  play  as  you  travelled  along.  No  material 
damage  is  ever  done  in  their  fights  except,  if  possible,  to 
the  character  of  the  women,  for  there  is  no  limit  to  the 
foul  abuse  and  insinuations.  I say  “if  possible,”  for  the 
boat  people  as  a class  have  no  morals.  They  have  got 
a bad  name  and  they  live  up  to  it.  The  name  “ hangi  ” 
is  itself  a term  of  abuse — i.e.  if  you  wish  to  describe 
a man  as  thoroughly  bad  you  say  he  is  only  a hangi. 

I will  take  this  opportunity  of  warning  my  fellow- 
countrymen  who  are  new  to  this  country  to  be  on 
their  guard  when  hiring  living-boats  for  trips,  such  as 
“ doongas  ” and  house-boats,  for  very  many  have  proved 
to  be  veritable  death-traps  to  the  morals  of  young 
Englishmen,  and  in  certain  cases  I have  known  them  to 
end  in  speedy  death.  Never  shall  I forget  the  death- 
bed of  one  bright,  cheery  boy  who  implored  me  to  tell 
anyone  likely  to  be  entrapped  as  he  had  been,  so  that 
through  his  suffering  and  death  they  might  be  saved 
from  this  terrible  disease  and  death.  He,  like  so  many, 
was  caught  by  one  of  the  many  scoundrels  who  are  out 
to  grab  the  money  of  young  Englishmen,  using  women 
as  their  bait. 

There  is  one  special  native  firm  which  has  made  itself 
rich  in  this  traffic.  Against  them  I have  warned  many, 
and  continue  to  do  so,  and  have  told  the  head  of  the  firm 
that  I will  ever  do  so. 

New-comers  who  have  been  harassed  by  this  class  of 
biped  sometimes  come  to  me  for  help  and  advice.  I 
generally  give  them  two  instances  of  fact  to  guide  their 
actions.  I will  pass  them  on  to  you  now. 

A colonel  came  to  me  in  great  distress,  asking  for 
advice.  He  had  just  come  up  the  river  from  Baramulla 
to  Srinagar,  a journey  of  three  days.  He  was  paying  off 
his  boat  when  the  boatman  demanded  Rs.500,  the  proper 

96 


/ h )to  frv] 


R.  F..  Shorter. 


Photo  by] 


(1)  The  Common  task  of  Women. 

(2)  Women  Water  Carriers. 


[/?.  E.  Shorter. 


Pounding  Rice.  The  mortars  are  blocks  of  wood  hollowed  out  : the  pestles  are  heavy 
pieces  of  timber  which  makes  this  daily  round  in  women’s  work  very  arduous. 

It  is  the  women’s  duty  to  convey  water  for  domestic  use.  The  constant  practice  of 
balancing  the  pots  on  their  heads  gives  them  an  erect  and  graceful  poise. 


/ hoto  by] 


[ k.  E.  Shorter. 


Leaving  School. 

Schoolboys  going  home  by  way  of  the  river. 

Enemies  of  the  Gods. 

Destroyed  by  His  Highness's  troops  at  the  religious  ceremony  of  Ram  Lcela. 


Mohammedans  &*  Hindus 

fare  being  then  Rs.3.8.  On  his  asking  the  reason  for 
the  extortion,  the  boatman  calmly  told  him  that  he  had 
a dancing  girl  on  board  and  that  if  he  did  not  pay  up 
the  Rs.500  he  would  let  it  be  known  far  and  wide  that 
the  Colonel  Sahib  had  been  living  with  this  woman  for 
three  days  in  his  boat  during  the  journey  up  the  river. 

The  other  case  was  that  of  a subaltern  who  found 
himself  in  a somewhat  similar  predicament,  and  he  settled 
the  matter  without  asking  anyone’s  advice,  for  with  one 
well-directed  blow  this  loathsome  biped  disappeared  out 
of  the  boat  into  the  river,  and  the  matter  was  settled 
without  further  ado.  This  particular  biped  happened  to 
be  the  agent  for  the  firm  I have  just  mentioned.  There 
are  certain  times  in  one’s  life  when  fists  are  both  useful 
and  necessary,  and  this  is  certainly  the  sort  of  occasion 
when  we  can  with  a clear  conscience  enjoy  again  those 
times  we  had  in  our  schooldays  when  we  punched  a 
bully’s  head.  It  is  of  interest  to  note  that  that  great 
soldier  General  John  Nicholson  of  Delhi,  in  the  early 
days,  when  he  was  British  Agent  in  Kashmir,  tried  to 
put  a stop  to  this  filthy  traffic. 

I cannot  leave  the  boatmen  in  such  depths  of  infamy, 
for  in  every  man,  and  in  every  class  of  men,  there  is  some 
gold  somewhere. 

I respect  the  boatmen  in  their  work  as  boatmen,  for 
they  have  delighted  me  over  and  over  again  in  their 
knowledge  of  boatcraft,  for  they  are  kings  at  it.  I 
delight  to  see  them  in  their  boats  forging  up  the  river 
against  a strong  stream  wfith  pole  or  paddle,  taking 
advantage  of  every  swirl  and  eddy  behind  a projecting 
wall  or  pier  of  a bridge.  They  seem  to  know  every 
crack  and  hole  in  the  stone  walls  in  which  to  insert  their 
pole,  and  then  put  all  their  weight  on  to  it  just  at  the 
very  moment  when  they  can  make  full  use  of  the  shove, 
e 97 


Mohammedans  & Hindus 

Then,  again,  they  can  work  really  hard.  They  will 
tow  your  boat  up-stream  all  day,  and  if  really  necessary 
will  continue  all  night. 

I was  blessed  with  the  possession  of  a man  who  was 
king  of  boatmen,  Ismalia  by  name,  bless  him ! That  man 
would  do  anything  for  me.  No  man  on  the  river  or 
lake  understood  boatcraft  better  than  he.  In  storm  on 
the  lake  he  never  lost  his  head : whilst  those  around  him 
would  be  screaming  and  jumping  about  in  delirium, 
women  tearing  their  hair  and  garments,  Ismalia  would  be 
sticking  to  his  job.  He  would  jump  into  river  or  lake  no 
matter  what  the  temperature  of  the  water  might  be,  if  he 
thought  it  necessary,  or  if  ordered  to  do  so.  In  times  of 
danger  he  was  at  his  best.  In  the  big  floods,  at  city 
fires,  in  epidemics,  he  was  always  on  the  spot. 

In  floods  when  practically  all  his  brethren  were  making 
use  of  their  golden  opportunities  for  loot  he  was  out 
saving  life  and  property  freely.  I could  write  a book  on 
Ismalia. 

There  was  one  thing  that  Ismalia  feared,  and  that  was 
the  tongue  of  his  spouse,  and  I do  not  blame  him,  for  he 
had  to  live  in  the  very  small  space  of  a boat  with  her 
always.  I grieved  over  this  many  a time  and  oft,  and 
tried  myself  to  tame  that  tongue,  but  I regret  to  say 
I failed  in  the  matter  of  bringing  relief  to  my  king  of 
boatmen. 

He  might  have  relieved  himself  of  that  tongue  if  he 
had  followed  the  example  of  another  sorely  tried  “ bhai  ” 
who  possessed  a spouse  very  similar,  for  she  always  did 
exactly  the  opposite  to  that  which  she  was  asked  or 
advised  to  do.  While  crossing  a rough  bit  of  water  the 
husband  asked  his  wife  not  to  sit  on  the  edge  of  the 
boat,  but  to  sit  on  the  seat  in  the  centre,  otherwise  she 
might  be  jerked  overboard.  She  therefore,  of  course,  sat 

98 


Mohammedans  §P  Hindus 

on  the  edge  of  the  boat,  and  before  long  she  disappeared 
out  of  the  boat  and  out  of  sight.  When  the  boat 
reached  the  land  the  husband  immediately  walked  along 
the  bank  to  see  if  he  could  see  any  trace  of  his  wife. 
The  boatmen  were  astonished  to  see  him  walking  up- 
stream instead  of  down.  “ Ah  ! ” said  he,  “ you  don’t 
know  my  wife ; she  always  goes  the  opposite  way.” 

Ismalia  might  have  been  rid  of  that  tongue  likewise, 
but  he  endured  with  patience  and  in  silence,  for  that 
tongue  also  fought  Ismalia’s  enemies  many  times  and  oft, 
to  which  fact  I can  bear  witness.  I said  previously  that 
the  boatmen  as  a class  are  an  utterly  immoral  lot,  or  words 
to  that  effect.  Ismalia  was  an  exception,  for  he  was  as 
white  as  they  were  black. 

We  always  trusted  our  children  with  him,  for  we  knew 
they  would  be  absolutely  safe  under  his  care ; no  one 
could  harm  them  if  Ismalia  were  at  hand.  Let  us  hope 
that  there  are  many  other  boatmen  something  like  Ismalia 
whom  I do  not  happen  to  have  come  across.  Ismalia  had 
a paralytic  stroke  and  passed  away  from  us  into  the  fuller 
life,  and  I look  forward  to  meeting  again  that  king  of 
boatmen.  If  the  River  Styx  is  still  flowing  and  old 
Charon  w^ants  relief  it  would  be  the  sort  of  job  that 
Ismalia  would  love,  and  mighty  cheering  it  would  be  to 
see  his  smiling  face  and  red  beard  once  more  as  he 
greeted  one,  paddle  in  hand. 

I said  above  that  the  boatmen  do  not  indulge  in  wordy 
fights  so  often  as  in  the  past,  and  that  reminds  me  of 
quite  the  opposite  practice  of  “ saying  their  prayers,” 
which  also  has  become  less  frequent,  for  at  midday  one 
would  see  conspicuous  places  monopolised  by  men  in  the 
attitude  of  prayer,  standing  on  the  top  of  a wrall,  or  on 
the  roof  of  their  boat,  going  through  the  genuflections 
according  to  Mohammedan  ritual,  which  has  to  be 

99 


Mohammedans  & Hindus 

performed  three  times  a day,  at  sunrise,  at  midday  and  at 
sunset.  The  women,  of  course,  do  not  pray  in  public,  nor 
do  they  enter  the  mosques.  In  some  of  the  richer  houses 
the  mullah  will  read  Arabic  prayers  with  them,  which  they 
seldom  understand. 

The  faithful  have  to  offer  their  nemaz  (prayer)  five 
times  a day.  Every  Mussulman  commences  his  “ nemaz  ” 
by  standing  up  with  his  face  towards  the  Kaaba.  He 
places  his  thumbs  underneath  his  ears  with  fingers 
stretched  out.  This  position  is  called  “ takbir.”  Then 
he  lowers  his  hands  and  places  his  right  hand  upon  the 
left  on  his  stomach  or  chest,  forming  the  word  “ Allah  ” 
with  the  fingers  of  his  right  hand.  This  position  is 
“ tahrim.”  Then  he  bends  his  body  in  the  shape  of  a 
crescent,  placing  his  hands  on  his  knees.  This  is  called 
“ raku.”  Subsequently  he  touches  the  ground  with  his 
forehead.  This  is  called  “ sajda.”  This  process  is 
repeated  twice,  and  lastly  he  sits  on  his  left  leg.  This  is 
called  “ qada.”  After  the  completion  of  the  nemaz  he 
turns  his  head  first  towards  the  right  and  then  towards 
the  left,  saluting  the  two  guardian  angels  “ Keraman  ” 
and  “ Katebin,”  the  recorders  of  his  deeds. 

I imagine  the  reason  of  there  being  less  praying  among 
the  boatmen  is  that  as  they  are  becoming  richer  they 
feel  more  independent,  and  have  not  so  much  to  fear  from 
the  mullahs  or  from  the  religious  opinion  of  their  fellow- 
Mohammedans,  for  praying  in  public  raises  them  in  the 
esteem  of  their  co-religionists.  It  requires  courage  for 
Mohammedans  not  to  pray  in  public,  just  as  it  requires 
courage  on  the  part  of  Christians  to  be  seen  praying  in 
the  street  or  public  place. 

This  praying  in  public  is  no  criterion  of  a religious  life, 
for  I have  noticed  that  those  who  parade  their  praying 
most  are  the  men  least  to  be  trusted. 


IOO 


Mohammedans  & Hindus 

OF  course  we  find  this  the  same  with  Christians ; we 
naturally  fight  shy  of  the  religious  talking  lot.  In 
Kashmir  anyway  religion  and  life  have  nothing  to  do  with 
one  another;  the  better-living  men  do  not  parade  their 
religion,  and  vice  versa. 

As  one  floats  down  the  river  one  sees  many  bathing 
from  the  river  steps.  They  arc  Brahmans ; and  there 
they  stand  knee-deep  performing  their  ceremonial  ablu- 
tions. 

The  Hindus  generally  rise  very  early.  Before  leaving 
their  beds  they  lie  on  their  stomachs  and  offer  a short 
prayer.  Those  who  are  of  a religious  turn  of  mind  sit 
square  over  a clean  piece  of  cloth  or  a carpet  of  kusha 
grass  or  the  skin  of  an  antelope  and  tell  their  beads, 
reciting  a sacred  Vedic  mantra  like  the  Buddhist ; or  they 
practise  concentration  of  mind  or  regulation  of  breath  for 
some  time.  This  is  done  in  absolute  privacy.  Then  they 
leave  the  bedroom  and  go  to  the  river-side,  and  some  of 
them  perform  necessary  ablutions,  while  others  sit  for 
some  time  on  the  bank  and  perform  daily  worship 
(sendhia). 

Having  stripped  himself,  the  Hindu  sits  on  the  steps 
of  the  bank.  First  he  washes  his  left  foot  and  then  the 
right.  This  is  because  the  body  is  believed  by  the 
Hindus  to  be  androgynous,  and  the  left  side  is  considered 
to  have  feminine  characteristics.  As  woman  (shakti) 
is  believed  to  be  superior  to  man,  the  left  foot  is  washed 
first.  And  every  woman  always  sits  on  the  left  of  her 
husband  whenever  they  have  to  perform  a religious 
ceremony.  No  ceremony  is  complete  unless  the  woman 
takes  part  in  it.  Most  Hindus  worship  God  in  the  form 
of  woman.  Would  that  these  Hindu  men  would  put 
into  practice  some  at  least  of  their  doctrines  with  regard 
to  women,  for  then  much  of  their  unnecessary  suffering 


IOI 


Mohammedans  & Hindus 

would  be  lessened.  Having  washed  his  foot,  he  holds  a 
handful  of  water  and  invokes  through  Vedic  incantations 
all  the  spirits  of  the  sacred  rivers,  such  as  Ganges,  Jamna, 
Gaya,  etc.  With  this  water  he  washes  his  face,  and  then 
his  Brahmanical  thread  and  the  tuft  of  hair  on  the  top  of 
his  head  with  a separate  mantra.  After  this  he  raises  his 
hands  with  open  palms  towards  the  sun,  invoking  Varuna, 
the  god  of  the  air,  to  make  him  clean.  Then  he  sprinkles 
water  three  times  towards  his  left. 

After  this  he  places  a piece  of  clay  on  the  bank, 
divides  it  into  three  parts,  sprinkles  water  over  these 
portions  with  separate  mantras,  invoking  the  sun  god  to 
cleanse  him.  He  picks  up  the  first  part  and  throws  it 
towards  all  the  four  points  of  the  compass;  with  the 
second  part  he  besmears  his  body,  and  the  third  part  he 
throws  into  the  water.  Then  holding  a handful  of  water 
he  steps  into  the  river  and  begins  to  bathe.  When 
standing  in  the  river  he  sprinkles  water  three  times,  in 
the  name  of  the  ancestors,  in  the  name  of  ancient  sages 
of  India,  and  last  of  all  in  the  name  of  the  gods.  Then 
he  comes  out  of  the  water  and  puts  on  clothes,  and  again 
sits  on  the  bank  to  regulate  his  breath  and  perforin  the 
remaining  part  of  the  ceremony.  First  he  inhales  a long 
breath  through  the  left  nostril,  retains  it  for  a few 
seconds  and  then  exhales  it  very,  very  slowly  through  the 
right  nostril.  It  is  said  that  mental  calm  follows  this 
breathing  practice  which  lasts  for  some  time.  This  is 
done  three  or  four  times.  The  ceremony  is  concluded 
with  special  movements  of  the  hands,  telling  of  beads  and 
sprinkling  of  water  in  a peculiar  way  too  tedious  to 
be  described  here.  That  part  of  the  worship  which 
particularly  attracts  one’s  attention  is  the  squirting  of  the 
water  from  their  mouths,  reminding  one  of  a well-worked 
fire-pump. 


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Mohammedans  & Hindus 

All  the  way  down  the  river  you  see  washings  of  all 
sorts.  Hindu  women  are  continually  washing  their  brass 
pots. 

Hindus  may  not  cook  their  food  in  anything  else  but 
brass  utensils;  they  eat  off  brass  dishes  and  drink  out  of 
brass  cups.  It  is  amusing  to  see  Hindus  trying  to  drink 
hot  tea  out  of  their  brass  cups,  for  the  metal  is  always 
much  hotter  to  the  lips  than  the  tea.  They  try  to  get  at 
their  hot  drink  without  burning  their  lips.  If  they  used 
earthenware  or  china,  they  could  only  use  them  once,  and 
then  they  would  throw  them  away  as  defiled  and  not  able 
to  be  cleaned.  They  consider  brass  can  be  cleaned  as 
other  material  cannot  be  cleaned.  Hence  one  sees  the 
Hindu  women  scrubbing  away  at  their  brass  pots  with 
sand  and  mud,  but  chiefly  one  notices  at  the  outside,  I 
suppose  because  it  shows  most  and  is  easier  to  clean  than 
the  inside,  especially  if  the  neck  is  small.  By  the  side  of 
the  brass  scrubber  you  will  see  the  priest  with  his  brass 
and  stone  gods,  which  he  has  brought  down  to  wash,  or 
to  perform  some  religious  ceremony. 

The  priest  first  invokes  the  particular  god  through  his 
mantras.  Having  done  that,  he  begins  to  bathe  the  god 
which  he  believes  to  be  in  that  idol.  He  mixes  a little 
milk  with  water  and  begins  to  pour  it  on  the  top  of  it ; 
meanwhile  he  recites  a certain  portion  of  Vedas  called 
“ Rudra  mantra.”  This  takes  him  about  twenty  minutes 
or  more,  according  to  the  leisure  of  the  priest.  Then  he 
wipes  the  idol  with  a towel  and  covers  it  with  flowers  and 
rice.  He  does  not  necessarily  use  a clean  towel. 

Here,  again,  squats  a Hindu  woman  cleaning  a fish 
with  a knife,  scraping  off  its  scales  and  its  inside  (a 
Mohammedan,  of  course,  having  been  the  sinner  who 
caught  and  killed  the  fish),  and  just  below  her  will  be 
a man  cleaning  his  teeth  with  a piece  of  willow  twig  (the 

103 


Mohammedans  &?  Hindus 

favourite  tooth-brush),  scooping  up  the  water  with  his 
hand,  with  which  he  gargles.  One  often  wonders  how 
much  of  the  inside  of  the  fish  or  scales  gets  mixed  up 
with  the  gargle.  He  also  sniffs  water  up  his  nose,  and 
altogether  has  quite  a good  wash-up. 

Below’  the  mouth-w'asher  the  dhobi  is  washing  the 
clothes,  which  is  an  amusing  sight  if  the  clothes  do  not 
happen  to  be  one’s  own,  as  he  takes  up  the  garments  one 
after  another  and  dashes  them  with  all  his  might  on  to 
the  stone  steps,  or  on  to  a smooth  rock  which  he  has 
placed  in  position,  on  which  to  smash  buttons  or  any- 
thing else  breakable ; then  he  squeezes  out  the  garments 
by  placing  his  feet  on  one  end  and  twisting  them  round 
with  both  hands.  He  now  spreads  out  the  garments  on 
the  muddy  bank  of  the  river  to  be  bleached  by  the  sun. 
Whilst  he  is  smashing  more  clothes  on  the  rock  he  is 
obliged  to  keep  his  weather  eye  open  in  order  to  be  in 
time  to  scare  off  pariah  dogs  and  chickens,  which  seem  to 
take  a special  delight  in  walking  over  anything  which 
they  should  not;  or  sometimes  it  is  a strolling  cow’  or 
Brahmani  bull  which  takes  a fancy  for  a tow  el  upon  which 
to  try  her  or  his  teeth ; or  it  may  be  a crow’  has  seen 
a pocket-handkerchief  or  a coloured  sock  w'hich  he  thinks 
would  not  look  amiss  in  his  nest.  Hence  a dhobi’s  wrork 
is  not  altogether  easy  when  he  chooses  the  river  bank 
for  his  washing  ground. 

English  mem-sahibs  often  think  ill  of  their  dhobis ; 
and  sometimes  they  may  have  cause,  for  I have  known 
a dhobi  when  he  has  lost  a handkerchief  cut  a large  one 
in  two  and  so  make  up  the  number  that  was  sent  to  the 
wash.  I have  often  known  a dhobi  fail  to  return  a 
pretty  garment  and  give  quite  a picturesque  excuse,  when, 
if  the  truth  were  known,  at  that  particular  moment 
some  gallant  bridegroom  would  be  wearing  that  very 

1 04 


Mohammedans  §P  Hindus 

article  as  he  parades  round  the  town  on  his  white  and 
beautifully  caparisoned  horse,  his  handsome  features 
being  partly  hidden  by  a silver  and  gold  veil,  and  all  set 
off  by  the  final  flourish  of  the  peacock’s  feather  on  the 
top  of  his  head.  As  a matter  of  fact,  the  dhobis  are  on 
the  whole  a great  comfort,  for  they  can  turn  out  excellent 
work,  and  then  wdren  you  come  to  the  price  as  compared 
with  English  laundries  it  is  marvellously  cheap.  Up  to 
a year  ago  I paid  three  rupees  only  for  one  hundred 
garments  washed — i.e.  from  a pocket-handkerchief  to 
a bed  sheet — which  works  out  to  rather  more  than  one 
halfpenny  per  article;  now  it  is  more  than  a penny  an 
article. 

When  one  is  in  England  paying  the  washing  bill  one 
just  longs  for  one’s  fat  dhobi.  As  a matter  of  fact,  they 
are  generally  rather  thin,  but  I have  had  the  pleasure  of 
having  my  clothes  washed  by  two  fat  dhobis.  One  of 
them  was  a wise  man  in  another  matter  than  in  clothes. 
My  wife  had  taken  him  with  the  household  to  our  hut  in 
the  forest,  and  he  washed  contentedly,  we  thought,  in 
the  lake.  But  he  asked  leave  one  day  to  return  to  the 
city  to  visit  his  family,  promising  to  be  back  in  three  days’ 
time ; but  he  came  not  back,  and  in  his  stead  he  sent  his 
lean  old  father,  w ith  a message  to  say  that  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  hut  in  the  forest  was  not  healthy  on  account 
of  the  bears  and  panthers,  especially  the  latter,  and  so  he 
sent  his  old  father  to  do  the  washing. 

At  every  ghat  or  yaribal,  which  means  a meeting-place 
of  friends,  and  consists  of  a flight  of  stone  steps,  generally 
filthy  and  most  abominably  odoriferous,  will  be  found  a 
large  stone  with  a smooth  round  hole  in  the  centre.  This 
is  the  public  washing-tub  in  w’hich  amateur  dhobis  wash 
their  clothes  by  trampling  on  and  squeezing  them  with 
their  feet  as  grapes  are  crushed  in  the  wine  vats.  It  is 

105 


Mohammedans  4P  Hindus 

a pleasure  to  see  people  thus  at  work,  for  one  can  be 
certain  that  they  will  have  clean  feet,  which  is  a rare 
sight  in  this  land. 

Among  the  many  entertainments  on  the  river  banks  is 
the  sight  of  three  or  four  women  or  girls  sitting  in  a ring 
presenting  their  backs  to  each  other.  Each  one  seems  to 
be  scratching  the  head  of  the  one  in  front,  but,  as  a matter 
of  fact,  they  have  reverted  to  type,  to  their  ancestors  of 
the  forests,  and  are  relieving  one  another  of  irritating 
lodgers— in  fact,  according  to  Scout  law,  each  doing  a 
good  turn. 

It  is  extraordinary  how  dirty  the  Kashmiris  are,  con- 
sidering the  amount  of  water  that  is  around  them  every- 
where, and  though  washing  opportunities  are  at  hand 
they  prefer  to  wear  dirty  garments.  They  have  told  me, 
when  I have  suggested  washing,  that  it  wears  out  clothes 
to  wash  them.  Self-respecting  women  are  obliged  to 
wear  dirty  garments,  for  if  they  wore  clean  ones  they 
might  be  taken  for  women  of  loose  life. 

I remember  my  pleasure,  when  I visited  Burma,  to  be 
surrounded  by  clean  people  in  bright  colours,  and  to  see 
women  mixing  freely  with  the  men,  and  all  happy  and 
jolly  together,  without  anyone  thinking  it  evil  or  immodest. 
Kashmir  was  once  like  Burma,  a Buddhist  country.  I 
wonder  if  the  people  were  then  clean  and  jolly  like  the 
Burmans. 

I have  spoken  of  the  unpleasant  smells  on  the  river, 
but  now  and  again  one  is  cheered  when  one  passes  a 
party  of  sawyers  at  work  on  deodar  logs,  which  is  at  once 
delightful  and  refreshing.  Again,  when  one  passes  boats 
loaded  with  spices,  or  when  meals  are  being  prepared  in 
the  evening,  one  has  quite  a succession  of  interesting 
and  pleasing  whifts.  But  nevertheless  it  is  as  well  for  a 
man  to  be  armed  with  a pipe  or  a cigar,  and  a lady  with 

106 


Mohammedans  & Hindus 

smelling-bottle,  when  a trip  is  made  on  the  river  or  in  the 
streets  of  Srinagar. 

Practically  at  every  ghat  you  see  water-carriers  at 
work.  Sometimes  they  are  men  called  “ bhishties,”  or 
heavenly  men,  and  truly  they  are  such  in  the  hot  weather. 
They  carry  a goat-skin  and  a wooden  ladle,  but  generally 
this  work  is  done  by  women,  which  is  always  pleasing 
to  the  eye,  as  the  women  carry  themselves  so  elegantly 
when  they  carry  the  terra-cotta-coloured  earthen  jar  on 
their  shoulder  or  head.  Water-carrying  is  supposed  to 
be  women’s  work,  but  real  heavy  work  it  is  for  women. 
To  lift  up  a large  earthenware  jar  full  of  water  from  the 
ground  and  hoist  it  up  to  the  shoulder  or  to  the  top  of 
the  head  is  no  light  task.  Times  out  of  number  have  I 
seen  men  standing  or  sitting  close  by,  but  they  never  will 
give  a helping  hand,  the  reason  being  that  it  is  not  the 
custom,  and  that’s  the  end  of  it. 

We  have  been  so  taken  up  with  the  life  and  manner  of 
the  people  on  the  river  banks  that  we  have  not  noticed 
the  houses  that  overhang  the  river,  which,  though  untidy- 
looking,  are  often  most  picturesque.  Most  of  the  houses 
are  built  with  wooden  frames  filled  in  with  brick.  Built 
in  this  manner,  they  are  the  better  able  to  withstand 
earthquake  shocks  than  those  built  of  solid  masonry. 

If  you  look  at  a house  just  completed  by  a Hindu  you 
will  notice  an  old  and  broken  earthenware  pot  slung  from 
one  of  the  projecting  beams.  This  is  considered  to  be 
most  important,  as  it  keeps  off  the  evil  eye,  for  when  the 
devil  notices  a nice  new-built  house  he  may  take  a fancy 
to  it ; but  on  closer  inspection  he  sees  the  old  broken  pot 
attached  to  it,  so  realises  that  he  has  made  a mistake  in 
thinking  it  to  be  a new  building,  and  hence  will  not  covet 
it.  This  belief  in  the  evil  eye  pervades  all  things,  whether 
it  be  new-born  babies  or  carpets.  Mothers  purposely 

107 


Mohammedans  & Hindus 

keep  the  faces  of  their  children  unwashed,  to  ward  off 
the  evil  eye.  When  they  show  you  a baby  you  must 
always  make  some  disparaging  remark.  The  mother 
would  be  terribly  upset  if  you  said  the  child  was  beautiful 
or  fat.  As  it  is  such  a delicate  matter,  it  is  best  not  to 
commit  oneself,  but  simply  say  : “ What  a child  ! ” 

If  it  is  a carpet  you  will,  if  you  look  carefully,  always 
find  some  flaw  in  it  as  to  colour  or  pattern  purposely 
made. 

The  houses  as  a rule  need  no  flaws  purposely  made  in 
their  construction,  as  they  are  so  often  off  the  straight, 
and  some  have  large  props  placed  against  the  outside 
walls  to  prevent  their  toppling  over,  presenting  often  a 
very  drunken  appearance.  When  I first  started  building 
I noticed  that  the  wall  under  construction  was  off  the 
straight,  so  asked  the  mason  to  place  a plumb-line  against 
it ; but  he  informed  me  that  Kashmiris  did  not  use  them, 
as  they  could  build  without  troubling  about  such  instru- 
ments. Europeans  might  need  them,  but  Kashmiris’  eye- 
sight was  good,  and  that  was  sufficient.  I finally  demon- 
strated to  him  that  his  eyes  had  failed  him  in  this 
particular  instance,  and  impressed  this  fact  on  his  mind’s 
eye  by  making  him  pull  the  whole  of  the  wall  down  and 
rebuild  it.  I believe  that  I really  did  convert  him  to 
believe  in  plumb-lines,  although  it  did  not  then  happen 
to  be  one  of  the  customs  of  the  Kashmir  masons.  There 
are  only  a few  buildings  w'hich  attract  your  attention 
after  leaving  the  Maharajah’s  palace  and  the  large  modern 
villa  close  by  belonging  to  Raja  Sir  Hari  Singh,  the  heir- 
apparent  and  nephew  to  H.H.  the  Maharajah. 

One  house,  a strongly  built,  pretentious-looking  edifice 
of  stone  and  brick,  is  that  of  a late  Governor  of  thirty 
years  ago,  in  those  days  notable,  as  it  was  the  only 
house  in  the  city  that  possessed  glass  windows.  I can 

108 


Mohammedans  Hindus 

never  pass  it  without  thinking  of  my  first  call  on  the 
great  personage  who  then  owned  it.  He  kept  me  wait- 
ing for  half-an-hour,  no  doubt  to  impress  upon  me  his 
importance  and  my  nothingness.  However,  that  half- 
hour  was  not  lost  time,  for  his  servant  entertained  me  by 
showing  to  me  the  wonders  of  the  state-room.  He  drew 
my  attention  to  a glass  chandelier  which  hung  from  the 
ceiling  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  tried  to  make  me 
understand  the  brilliant  effect  when  the  candles  were 
lighted.  Then  he  drew  my  attention  to  a valuable 
painting  which  the  Governor  had  procured.  It  was  no 
less  than  a German  oleograph  of  the  Thames  at 
Pangbourne.  The  servant  asked  me  to  come  to  a certain 
spot  in  the  room  from  where  I could  get  the  best  view  of 
this  wonderful  painting,  he  putting  his  hand  to  his  fore- 
head to  shield  the  light  from  his  eyes.  I,  of  course,  did 
the  same,  and  was  duly  impressed.  From  there  I was 
taken  to  the  south  wall,  where  hung  a picture  of  Queen 
Victoria,  Empress  of  India;  this  I was  asked  to  look  at 
from  another  spot,  and  then,  lo  and  behold  ! instead  of 
the  Empress  of  India,  stood  a black  and  white  English 
terrier.  The  servant  looked  at  me  to  enjoy  my  wonder 
and  surprise  at  such  a marvel.  We  had  hardly  finished 
all  the  wonders  of  the  room  when  the  great  man  himself 
entered. 

Lower  down  the  river  on  the  opposite  side  is  the 
Maharajah’s  temple,  where  the  Dharam  Sabha,  or  religious 
council,  meet  to  discuss  religious  subjects,  and  to  excom- 
municate those  of  their  co-religionists  who  have  broken 
their  caste  by  eating  food  with  someone  not  of  their 
caste,  or  some  heinous  sin  of  that  description.  The 
temple  itself  is  the  ordinary  square  stone  building  with 
a dome-like  spire  covered  with  sheets  of  tin  ; the  inside  is 
iox  io  feet,  with  a pedestal  of  stone  in  the  centre  on 

109 


Mohammedans  & Hindus 

which  stands  the  stone  lingam  known  as  the  god  Shiva. 
The  worshippers  bring  their  offerings  of  milk,  sugar,  rice 
and  flowers,  the  priest  being  in  attendance  to  take  their 
money.  This  temple  stands  in  a courtyard  with  a hand- 
some stone  stairway  to  the  river,  and  above  the  stairway 
is  a hall  overlooking  the  river,  where  the  Dharam  Sabha 
hold  their  august  meetings. 

A little  lower  down  the  river  on  the  same  side  and  just 
above  the  third  bridge,  called  Fateh  Kadal,  is  the  Church 
Mission  School  for  girls,  and  a few  yards  lower  down  is 
the  C.M.S.  High  School  for  boys.  They  are  merchants’ 
houses  adapted  to  suit  school  needs.  They  overhang 
the  river,  and  with  their  balconies  and  lattice  windows 
are  decidedly  picturesque.  Sometimes  will  be  seen  boys 
jumping  out  of  the  school  windows  and  off  the  roof  into 
the  river,  distances  varying  from  twenty  to  fifty  feet  in 
height.  It  is  the  only  building  in  the  city  besides  the 
palace  which  possesses  a flag.  It  has  to  do  duty  for 
a school  bell.  The  flag  is  a red  one  emblazoned  with 
the  school  crest  and  motto.  The  crest  is  crossed  paddles 
and  the  motto  is  “ In  all  things  be  men,”  which  is  ever 
a call  to  the  citizens  as  well  as  to  the  boys  to  wake  up 
and  “ play  the  game,”  of  which  more  anon. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  is  a large  handsome 
building,  formerly  the  house  of  a previous  Governor, 
which  remained  uninhabited  many  years  on  account  of  its 
being  haunted. 

Some  eighteen  years  ago  Mrs  Annie  Besant,  of 
Theosophist  fame,  took  pity  on  the  said  building  when 
she  came  to  Kashmir  on  her  crusade  against  the  Mission 
School,  and  filled  it  with  three  hundred  boys  whom  she 
spirited  away  from  the  Mission  School  with  the  help,  not 
of  Mahatmas,  but  with  the  aid  of  more  corporeal  beings  in 
the  shape  of  those  Indian  and  Kashmiri  officials  who  had 


Mohammedans  & Hindus 

become  her  followers  for  the  time  being,  like  the  good 
old  Vicar  of  Bray,  until  times  did  alter.  Many  interesting 
things  happened  in  those  days  of  war,  and  still  more 
amusing  articles  appeared  in  the  native  Press  in  India, 
inspired  by  the  good  lady,  about  the  Kashmir  Mission 
School  in  general  and  Mr  Biscoe  in  particular.  One 
spicy  bit  of  news  which  I am  told  appeared  in  forty 
native  papers  in  India  is,  I think,  worth  printing  for  the 
forty-first  time. 

It  ran  thus: 

“Mr  Biscoe,  a missionary  in  Kashmir,  makes  his 
Brahman  boys  drag  dead  dogs  through  the  city.” 

Now  this  picturesque  proceeding  took  our  fancy,  and 
we  thought  it  ought  to  be  immortalised,  to  show  that 
one  lie  at  least  wras  really  true.  It  so  happened  that  I 
possessed  an  English  spaniel,  Taffy  by  name,  though  he 
did  not  happen  to  be  a Welshman  and  very  seldom  a 
thief.  He  was  withal  a very  loyal  dog,  for  he  was  ready 
to  die  for  the  Queen.  The  rest  was  quite  easy.  I took 
Taffy  to  the  stables,  which  are  somewhat  dilapidated, 
and  therefore  would  look  like  a house  in  the  city, 
and  would  make  an  excellent  background.  The  boys 
were  ready  with  the  rope.  Taffy  went  dead  for  Mrs 
Besant  this  time  instead  of  the  Queen;  the  rope  was 
tied  to  Taffy’s  hind  leg,  which  the  boys  grasped,  and 
a photographer  very  kindly  did  the  rest.  So  there  were 
immortalised  the  words  of  Mrs  Besant  copied  by  forty 
papers  in  India,  and  who  can  say  in  what  other  countries 
this  astounding  news  was  not  spread:  “Mr  Biscoe, 
a missionary  in  Kashmir,  makes  his  Brahman  boys  drag 
dead  dogs  through  the  city.”  One  of  the  many  untruths 
spread  about  the  country  of  the  mission  schools  was 
absolutely  true,  for  who  could  deny  it ! The  deed  had 
been  photographed,  and  that,  too,  before  the  days  of 


Mohammedans  &?  Hindus 

faked  cinema  films  were  thought  of.  I should  like  to 
say  that  I think  Mrs  Besant  fully  believed  what  was  told 
her  by  her  Kashmir  and  Indian  friends,  and  had  not  then 
discovered  their  capacity  for  manufacturing  lies.  This 
fact,  I think,  is  interesting  as  showing  how  some  minds, 
and  those  clever  ones,  pick  up  untruths  in  their  search 
for  truth. 


I I 2 


CHAPTER  VIII 


MOSQUES,  TEMPLES  AND  SHOPS 

WE  are  now  at  the  third  bridge,  called  Fateh 
Kadal,  after  Fateh  Khan.  On  this  bridge 
some  sixty  years  ago  was  a pole  and  hook, 
on  which  used  to  swing  the  bodies  of  those  who  had 
been  convicted  of  killing  cows,  as  a warning  to  the 
citizens.  This  bridge,  which  is  of  four  spans,  used  to 
be  covered  with  shops,  which  have  since  been  cleared 
away. 

Just  below  the  bridge,  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river, 
stands  a very  picturesque  mosque,  that  of  Shah  Hamdan, 
a large  square  building  of  deodar,  with  an  elegant  spire 
rising  from  the  centre  of  the  terraced  roof.  In  the 
springtime  this  roof  is  red  with  tulips.  There  is 
a handsome  carved  verandah  on  the  east  side,  where 
is  the  main  entrance,  and  over  it  is  an  inscription 
written  in  Arabic : “ This  is  the  tomb  of  Shah  Hamdan, 
who  was  a great  saint  of  God ; whosoever  does  not 
believe  this,  may  his  eyes  be  blinded,  and  may  he  go  to 
hell.” 

This  statement  acts  as  a sort  of  pick-me-up  as  one 
enters  the  sacred  building.  The  mosque  ranks  next  to 
the  Hazrat  Bla  mosque  on  the  Dal  in  sacredness.  It  was 
put  up  to  the  memory  of  Mir  Sayid  Ali  of  Hamdan, 
who  in  the  fourteenth  century  had  great  influence,  and 
to  him  is  ascribed  the  honour  of  being  one  of  the  chief 
oppressors  of  the  Hindus. 

This  mosque  stands  on  the  site  of  a Hindu  temple 

1 '3 


H 


Mosques,  Temples  Shops 

which  was  demolished  by  the  Mohammedans  to  make 
way  for  their  mosque.  There  issues  from  the  foundation 
of  the  former  building  a stream  of  water,  which  is 
a sacred  place  to  the  Hindus;  they  paint  the  stones 
around  this  spring  vermilion,  their  sacred  colour,  and 
rarely  can  you  pass  that  spot  without  seeing  worshippers 
offering  food,  and  praying  towards  that  shrine. 

On  certain  days  of  the  year  the  sacred  days  of  the 
Mohammedans  and  Hindus  coincide,  when  one  sees 
a great  concourse  of  worshippers  of  both  religions 
gathered  together,  the  Mohammedans  to  worship  Shah 
Hamdan,  for  the  Kashmiri  Mohammedans  are  great  saint 
worshippers,  and  the  Hindus  to  worship  Kali,  the  goddess 
of  murder,  for  that  is  her  shrine,  and  it  is  called  by  them 
Kali  Ghat.  A little  episode  that  happened  there  always 
comes  to  my  mind  when  I pass  the  spot. 

At  one  of  these  gatherings  a few  years  ago  three 
Mission  School  boys  happened  to  arrive  at  the  ghat  in 
time  to  see  three  sepoys  annoying  a Hindu  woman. 
They  immediately  interfered  on  the  woman’s  behalf,  to 
which  action  the  sepoys  objected,  and  ordered  the  boys 
off,  but  they  stood  their  ground  and  awaited  the  attack. 
Fortunately  for  the  woman  all  three  boys  were  athletes 
and  knew  something  of  the  noble  art  of  self-defence, 
with  the  result  that  the  three  sepoys  were  obliged  to 
retire  bloody  and  discomfited. 

On  hearing  at  school  next  day  of  this  scrap,  I asked 
the  boys  if  they  could  tell  me  which  side  the  goddess 
Kali  backed,  as  the  fray  took  place  at  her  shrine.  Some 
boys  said  that  she  must  have  taken  the  part  of  the  sepoys 
because  she,  being  the  goddess  of  murder,  would  prefer 
those  who  attacked,  whilst  other  boys  took  the  opposite 
view.  Then  a Solomon  arose  saying  as  Kali  must  be 
worshipped  with  blood  she  must  have  taken  the  side  of 

1 *4 


Fateh  Kadal. 

The  houses  shewn  on  this  bridge  were  shops  and  have  now  been  clear' 
picturesque  mosque  of  Shah  Ham  lan. 


Photo  by]  'P.  E.  Shorter. 


H.H.  The  Maharaja's  Soldiers  of  the  Old  Army. 

LUSHING  ON  THE  J HELUM. 


Mosques,  Temples  & Shops 

the  boys,  for  they  shed  most  blood,  and  to  this  theory 
all  agreed  with  much  satisfaction. 

There  is  another  mosque  of  interest  a little  lower  down 
the  river  called  Pather  Masjid,  which  was  built  by  the 
beautiful  Queen  of  Jahangir,  “Nur  Jahan,”  but  it  is 
never  used  for  worship  as  it  was  built  by  a woman,  so  is 
used  as  a store-house  for  grain. 

It  is  said  that  the  stones  which  formed  a causeway 
from  the  river  at  Shurahyar  opposite  H.H.  the  Maharajah’s 
palace  to  the  Takht-i-Suliman,  a distance  of  two  miles, 
were  used  in  the  building  of  this  mosque. 

We  have  now  reached  the  fourth  bridge,  called  /ana 
Kadal,  named  after  Zain-ul-Abidin. 

Below  the  fourth  bridge,  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river, 
is  a five-domed  temple  called  Malta  Shri,  built  by  King 
Praversena,  the  second  founder  of  Srinagar.  It  has  been 
converted  into  a graveyard.  The  wife  of  Sikandar  was 
buried  inside  this  temple,  while  Zain-ul-Abidin  lies  buried 
outside  it.  Hence  the  whole  locality  is  called  Bud  Shah, 
which  was  the  title  of  Zain-ul-Abidin. 

At  this  place  we  are  at  the  centre  of  the  city,  where 
you  find  the  rich  merchants’  houses,  and  where  you  can 
very  quickly  part  with  your  rupees  in  exchange  for 
shawls,  carpets,  furniture  made  of  walnut  wood  richly 
carved,  silver  and  copper  ware,  papier  mache,  and  articles 
of  various  designs.  Shawls  used  to  be  the  great  industry, 
but  those  who  made  them  were  practically  slaves ; they 
were  never  allowed  to  leave  Kashmir  and  were  treated 
shamefully.  It  is  said  that  every  shawl  cost  the  eyesight 
of  one  or  more  men,  as  the  work  was  so  fine,  so  it  was 
really  a great  mercy  when  the  shawl  trade  was  practically 
brought  to  an  end  by  the  Franco-German  War  of  1870. 
Most  of  the  shawls  were  exported  to  France,  so  that 
when  the  Germans  demanded  so  great  a war  indemnity 

“5 


Mosques,  Temples  & Shops 

the  French  had  no  spare  cash  with  which  to  purchase 
Kashmir  shawls. 

The  stream  carries  our  boat  swiftly  under  the  fifth 
bridge,  called  Ali  Kadal.  As  the  channel  of  the  river  is 
compressed,  so  the  stream  flows  strong,  and  as  the  boat 
is  swept  under  the  bridge  it  is  tossed  about  on  the  waves 
caused  by  swirls  and  eddies.  It  is  here  that  the  boat- 
man’s skill  is  watched  with  interest,  especially  when 
coming  up-stream  against  the  strong  current.  The 
boatmen  have  to  creep  up  under  the  cover  of  the  side 
walls,  or  under  the  shelter  of  the  piers  of  the  bridge, 
and  then  make  a dash  for  the  arch,  hugging  the  pier 
so  close  that  they  can  make  use  of  the  piles  of  the 
bridge  to  lever  themselves  upwards  against  the  current. 

Ali  Kadal  is  named  after  Ali  Khan,  son  of  Zain-ul- Abidin. 

About  a quarter  of  a mile  down-stream  is  the  sixth 
bridge,  Nawa  Kadal,  named  after  Nur  Din  Khan  in  a.d. 
1666. 

Before  we  reach  the  seventh  bridge,  Saffa  Kadal,  on 
the  right  bank  is  the  elegant  temple  of  Hanuman,  the 
monkey  god.  This  temple  belongs  to  the  Dhar  family,  and 
stands  out  well  against  the  blue  mountains  in  the  distance, 
as  its  white  walls  and  silver-like  spire  reflect  the  sunlight. 
At  the  back  the  mansions  and  gardens  of  the  Dhar  family 
cover  many  acres  of  ground.  In  the  time  of  Rani  it 
Singh’s  conquest  of  Kashmir  this  family  became  chief 
advisers  to  the  Sikhs. 

The  Saffa  Kadal  bridge  is  named  after  Saifulla  Khan. 
The  name  of  the  builder  and  date  of  the  building  of  the 
bridge  is  inscribed  on  the  gateway  of  a mosque  close  by. 
This  is  an  important  bridge,  as  there  is  not  another  for 
twenty  miles  down-stream.  It  is  across  this  bridge  that 
the  travellers  from  Srinagar  to  Central  Asia  start  on  their 
long  journey. 


Mosques,  Temples  &P  Shops 

Close  to  this  bridge  is  a big  square  building  called  the 
Yarkandi  Serai,  the  rest-house  for  Central  Asian  travellers, 
Yarkandis  in  their  long,  quilted,  many-coloured  garments, 
Tibetans,  and  men  from  Turkestan.  These  travellers  arrive 
with  their  loads  on  ponies  and  yaks,  with  carpets,  skins 
and  china  cups.  How  the  china  cups  survive  this  long 
journey  is  always  a marvel. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  to  the  Yarkandi 
Serai  is  a very  beautiful  maidan,  called  Id  Gah,  where  the 
Central  Asian  travellers  graze  their  yaks  and  ponies.  On 
the  farther  end  from  the  river  is  a very  large  handsome 
mosque,  which  holds  2000  worshippers.  It  is  supposed 
to  be  haunted  by  ghosts  and  goblins,  so  that  no  one  will 
enter  it  after  dark. 

A few  years  ago  a Mohammedan  from  Ladakh  who 
refused  to  believe  in  the  story  of  this  mosque  being 
haunted  was  offered  a reward  of  a hundred  pieces  of 
silver  provided  he  fixed  a peg  inside  the  mosque  at 
midnight.  To  this  challenge  he  willingly  agreed,  and 
at  midnight  entered  the  mosque  with  a tent-peg  and 
stone.  He  groped  his  way  in  the  darkness  among  the 
great  cedar-wood  columns  which  support  the  huge  roof 
and,  having  selected  a spot,  drove  the  peg  firmly  into  the 
ground  with  the  aid  of  his  stone  hammer.  Having 
accomplished  his  task  successfully,  he  turned  towards  the 
exit,  w hen  he  found  himself  held  firmly  to  the  spot  which 
he  had  pegged.  Do  what  he  might,  he  could  not  leave 
it.  He  struggled  in  terror,  crying  out  for  help;  but  who 
could  hear?  for  the  mosque  stands  in  a large  maidan  far 
from  any  habitation.  In  the  morning  an  early  worshipper 
saw  a heap  of  something  on  the  floor,  and  on  near  approach 
discovered  the  lifeless  Ladakhi.  He  was  horrified,  and 
went  off  in  search  of  help.  He  soon  returned  with  some 
friends,  and  they  tried  to  raise  the  body  from  the  ground, 

117 


Mosques,  Temples  Shops 

but  they  found  it  held  fast  to  the  spot  by  a peg.  On 
closer  inspection  they  discovered  that  the  peg  had  been 
driven  through  the  strong  cloth  of  the  Ladakhi  voluminous 
garment,  so  the  brave  Ladakhi  who  disbelieved  in  goblins 
after  all  died  in  fear  of  them,  and  the  one  hundred  pieces 
of  silver  did  not  change  hands. 

Some  of  the  entertaining  and  amusing  sights  of  the 
river  are  the  boatmen’s  wedding  parties,  which  are  very 
frequent  at  certain  times  of  the  year.  The  party 
borrow  a big  doonga  and  pack  it  with  their  wedding 
guests.  They  will  have  twenty  paddlers  or  so,  who  sit 
at  the  bow'  and  stern,  and  as  they  paddle  they  raise  them- 
selves up  and  down  in  such  good  time  as  to  make  the  ends 
of  the  boat  swing  up  and  down,  giving  an  exhibition  the 
while  of  fancy  strokes,  sending  the  water  in  spray  behind 
them.  It  makes  a most  ludicrous  effect,  and  is  intended 
to  be  so.  There  will  probably  be  a nautcb  girl  or  two, 
or  men  dressed  up  as  nautch  girls,  dancing  in  the  fore 
part  of  the  boat,  and  musicians.  There  will  be  a punting- 
pole  stuck  up,  with  a piece  of  coloured  cloth  on  the  top 
for  a flag,  and  if  they  wish  to  attract  an  extra  amount  of 
notice  a man  with  a shot-gun  will  straddle  the  pent  roof 
and  let  off  his  gun  when  the  spirit  moves  him.  A small 
boat  precedes  the  marriage  party,  about  thirty  yards  or 
so  ahead,  with  one  or  two  drummers  who  seem  to  put 
their  whole  soul  into  the  drums.  This  business  is  to 
attract  attention.  They  certainly  succeed  in  doing  so. 
The  bridegroom  sits  in  the  centre  of  the  boat  on  cushions, 
his  face  covered  with  a veil  of  tinsel  and  peacocks’ 
feathers  hanging  from  the  top  of  his  head.  This  boat 
with  its  show  is  propelled  up  and  down  the  river  through 
the  city  with  much  shouting  and  “ tamasha.” 

The  bride  is  not  invited  to  this  show. 

i iS 


CHAPTER  IX 


STREETS  AND  BAZAARS 

WE  will  leave  our  boat  at  the  bottom  of  the 
city  and  return  on  foot  through  the  streets 
in  order  to  see  the  life  of  the  people  in  the 
bazaars.  All  the  streets,  with  the  exception  of  the  main 
street,  are  very  narrow,  and  generally  very  filthy.  There 
are  no  sidewalks,  so  that  pedestrians,  equestrians,  laden 
animals,  laden  men,  cattle,  fowls  and  pariah  dogs  are  all 
jumbled  up  together.  Consequently  our  progress  will  be 
much  impeded.  However,  it  will  give  us  more  time  to 
take  in  and  digest  what  we  see.  In  the  winter-time  it  is 
of  course  more  difficult  going  in  the  streets  on  account 
of  the  pools  of  liquid  filth.  Then  one  has  to  be  careful 
not  to  bump  into  pedestrians,  for  most  of  them  are 
carrying  “ kangris  ” under  their  garments ; also  everyone 
carries  a blanket  over  his  shoulder,  which  is  everlastingly 
slipping  off,  and  as  often  has  to  be  thrown  on  again ; 
hence  one  is  always  liable  to  have  a dirty  blanket  flapped 
in  one’s  face. 

One  is  continually  entertained  with  amusing  or  annoy- 
ing episodes,  according  as  they  happen  to  oneself  or  to 
someone  else.  For  instance,  citizens  of  this  town  are  in 
the  habit  of  throwing  their  slops  out  of  the  upper  windows 
into  the  streets,  and  it  is  here  that  the  amusement  or 
annoyance  arises,  according  as  the  slops  fall  on  oneself 
or  on  somebody  else. 

The  Municipality  have  lately  passed  a law  against  this 
custom  of  ages,  but  Eastern  customs  die  hard.  On  the 

”9 


Streets  Bazaars 

last  occasion  when  the  episode  happened  to  be  more 
annoying  than  amusing,  I sought  to  uphold  the  Municipal 
law  by  calling  at  the  offending  house  in  order  to  obtain 
information  regarding  the  perpetrators  of  the  crime.  But 
every  obstacle  was  put  in  my  way.  The  neighbours  did 
their  best  to  shield  the  breaker  of  the  Municipal  law. 
They  first  said  that  they  did  not  know  the  name  of  the 
owner  of  the  house,  then  that  he  had  died  some  weeks 
ago.  Others  said  that  he  was  out ; others,  again,  said  that 
only  women  lived  there,  etc.,  etc.  However,  a friend  of 
mine,  an  official,  happened  to  be  passing,  so  with  his  help 
the  owner  was  found  to  be  alive ; also  he  was  a man  and 
not  a woman,  and  he  was  not  out,  but  very  much  at  home, 
for  he  was  made  to  appear.  He  happened  to  be  a big  man 
with  a red  beard.  Mohammedans  often  dye  their  beards 
red  to  be  like  their  prophet  Mohammed.  He  came  to 
me  carrying  a child  of  one  and  a half  years  old  in  his 
arms,  saying  : “ The  Sahib  must  not  be  angry,  for  was  not 
the  one  who  threw  a little  water  out  of  the  window  but 
a very  little  child.”  I answered  that  a miracle  must  have 
happened,  for  the  little  child  that  I saw  throwing  the 
water  out  of  the  window  possessed  a red  beard,  and 
the  colour  of  the  beard  was  uncommonly  like  the  beard 
of  the  man  who  was  carrying  the  child.  At  this  remark 
the  crowd  of  citizens  laughed  loudly,  whereupon  my  little 
child  with  the  red  beard,  seeing  that  the  game  was  up,  put 
his  hands  together  in  the  attitude  of  prayer  and  asked 
me  to  have  mercy  upon  him,  and  not  report  him  to  the 
Municipal  officers,  promising  to  give  up  the  custom  of  his 
forefathers  in  this  respect. 

The  reason  why  so  much  slop-water  comes  from  the 
upper  storeys  of  the  houses  is  that  the  top  room  is 
generally  used  as  the  kitchen,  and  does  not  possess  sinks 
or  drains. 


I 20 


An  important  bridge  as  there  i^  not  another  for  twenty  miles  down-stream.  Across  tin  bruh . traveller^  *r* *m  Srinagar  to 
Central  Asia  start  on  their  long  journey. 


Streets  Bazaars 

When  one  bicycles  through  the  city  one  has  to  be  very 
much  awake,  as  the  citizens  lose  their  heads  so  easily. 
They  often  dance  in  front  of  one’s  cycle  for  quite 
a considerable  time  before  they  decide  on  which  side 
they  will  go.  After  a time  one  learns  how  to  behave 
under  certain  circumstances  and  with  various  types  of 
individuals.  1 have  so  far  learnt  the  following : — 

When  a child  is  on  the  road  I look  quickly  to  see  if  it 
has  a guardian.  If  a little  sister  is  with  the  child  I do 
not  put  on  the  brake,  for  the  little  girl  will  most  certainly 
protect  the  child,  either  by  taking  him  with  her  to  one 
side,  or  by  standing  quite  still  wherever  she  happens  to 
be  and  clasping  the  child  tightly  in  her  arms  to  protect 
it.  If  a boy  is  the  protector  I have  to  prepare  my 
brake  for  emergencies,  for  I cannot  be  certain  if  he  will 
or  will  not  think  of  the  child’s  safety  before  his  own, 
but  probably  he  will  do  the  former.  If  the  mother  or 
some  woman  is  with  the  child  I put  on  the  brake,  for 
invariably  the  woman  will  run  to  the  side  of  the  street 
herself  and  then  call  to  the  child  to  come  to  her,  or  tell 
the  child  to  go  to  the  opposite  side.  So,  as  one  cannot 
possibly  tell  w hat  the  order  will  be,  one  has  to  slow  down 
in  order  to  be  ready  for  any  emergency.  If  the  child 
happens  to  have  a man  for  its  protector,  I put  on  the 
brake  hard,  and  possibly  dismount,  for  the  man  will  not 
merely  rush  for  safety,  but  most  probably  will  lose  his 
head,  and  do  a certain  amount  of  dancing  in  front  of 
the  cycle,  and  in  order  to  save  himself  will  give  the 
child  a shove  to  get  a take-off  on  his  mad  rush  to  save 
himself.  But  if  two  men  are  walking  together,  at  the 
sound  of  the  bell  they  will  both  clasp,  or  shove  against, 
each  other,  and  finally  the  man  on  the  right  will  rush  to 
the  left  and  the  man  on  the  left  will  rush  to  the  right, 
thereby  providing  quite  an  amusing  entertainment. 


121 


Streets  Bazaars 

When  all  is  over  and  they  find  themselves  safe,  they 
will  join  in  the  laughter  with  the  on-lookers.  This  is 
my  experience  after  many  years  of  cycling  through  the 
city,  and  I have  found  this  knowledge  useful  in  saving 
my  own  skin  as  well  as  that  of  the  citizens  of  Srinagar. 

Of  course  one  is  bound  at  times  to  come  to  grief  one- 
self. On  a very  greasy  day  in  a narrow  street  by  the  river, 
where  an  old  fishwife  sits  daily  before  her  baskets  of  fish, 
my  cycle  side-slipped,  and  before  I could  wink  I found 
myself  stuck  fast  in  one  of  the  half-empty,  slimy  baskets 
on  the  top  of  the  fish.  The  basket  fitted  my  sitting  posture 
like  a glove,  so  there  I had  to  remain  with  legs  in  the  air 
until  rescued  by  kindly  hands.  I fancy  that  the  old  fish- 
lady  was  too  convulsed  with  laughter  to  be  able  to  come 
to  the  rescue,  and  ever  since  that  day  the  old  lady,  who 
always  sits  at  the  same  spot  on  the  top  of  that  odoriferous 
stairway,  always  meets  me  with  a grin  as  I pass.  She 
and  I always  have  the  same  thoughts  when  our  eyes 
meet.  We  both  grin  at  each  other  as  we  pass  the  time 
of  day. 

Animals  and  birds  play  quite  an  amusing  part  in  the 
streets.  I see  a baker  walking  along  with  stately  gait 
carrying  a basket  of  fresh-baked  cakes  on  his  head  ( a la 
Pharaoh’s  baker) ; all  of  a sudden  the  basket  is  on  the 
ground  and  the  round  cakes  rolling  in  all  directions  in 
the  muddy  street,  whilst  the  baker  is  looking  about  in  the 
street  angrily  for  the  culprit,  who  happens  this  time  to 
be  a kite  which  is  just  soaring  above  him  sampling  one 
of  his  fresh-baked  cakes.  I was  riding  just  behind  the 
baker  when  the  kite  played  so  successfully  its  practical  joke. 
I suffered  in  the  same  way  on  another  occasion.  I was 
standing  up  eating  my  lunch  on  a mountain  road,  and  was 
holding  a sandwich  in  my  hand  and  was  in  the  act  of 
putting  it  into  my  mouth  when  I felt  a sharp  smack  on  my 


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Streets  & Bazaars 

right  cheek,  and  my  sandwich  was  gone.  I looked  round 
sharply  to  see  who  had  hit  me  and  pinched  my  sandwich, 
but  could  see  no  one,  when  a few  seconds  later  I saw 
gliding  down  the  valley  a kite  devouring  my  sandwich. 
The  kites  have  often  astonished  me  by  their  smartness 
and  audacity. 

One  familiar  sight  in  the  bazaars  is  the  Brahmani 
sacred  bull,  swaggering  down  town  with  his  rakish  black 
india-rubber  sort  of  hump  swaying  from  side  to  side  as  he 
walks.  He  seems  to  have  the  run  of  all  the  greengrocer 
shops  by  the  way ; he  shoves  his  nose  on  the  counters 
and  marches  off  munching  the  vegetables  he  has  pinched 
in  passing.  Everybody  makes  way  for  him.  That  he 
expects  respect  from  all  can  be  seen  by  the  look  in  his 
insolent  eye.  The  cow  tribe  in  Kashmir  is  sacred,  and 
formerly  anyone  who  killed  a cow  suffered  capital  punish- 
ment. Often  they  were  boiled  in  oil  and  then  hung 
from  a hook  which  was  fixed  on  to  a pole  in  a public 
place.  An  old  colonel  told  me  that  when  he  was  in 
Kashmir  as  a subaltern  he  remembered  seeing  the  pole 
fixed  on  the  Fateh  Kadal  bridge,  on  which  a boiled  corpse 
hung  as  food  for  the  birds  of  prey.  That  man  had  been 
convicted  of  killing  a cow  and  thus  suffered  for  his 
heinous  crime.  Until  seven  years  ago  the  penalty  for 
cow-killing  was  a life  sentence,  which  now  has  come 
down  to  seven  years  only. 

If  one  keeps  one’s  eyes  open  as  one  walks  through 
the  bazaars  one  will  see  the  great  respect  shown  by  the 
Hindus  to  the  cow  tribe,  for  as  one  passes,  and  generally 
they  are  plastered  in  mud,  one  will  see  a Hindu  touch 
the  holy  animal  with  the  shawl  that  he  carries  over  his 
shoulder  and  then  kiss  the  shawl  at  the  spot  where  it 
touched  the  cow,  so  that  in  some  wray  the  holiness  of  the 
cow  may  enter  him.  Yet,  notwithstanding  this  reverence 

I23 


Streets  & Bazaars 

for  the  cow,  you  will  in  the  winter  season  see  the  cows 
starving  to  death — that  is,  those  which  are  not  giving  milk, 
or  are  ill.  They  are  turned  out  into  the  snow-covered 
streets  to  fight  with  the  pariah  dogs  for  the  filth  under 
the  snow.  Then  when  they  fall  exhausted  they  are 
attacked  by  the  birds  of  prey,  which  gouge  out  their 
eyes,  and  when  they  are  dead  the  pariah  dogs  share  the 
carcase.  This  may  happen  at  the  very  door  of  a Hindu, 
but  I have  never  known  them  interfere  to  save  them. 
This  attitude  of  mind  is  most  difficult  for  a Westerner 
to  understand.  I gave  it  up  years  ago,  and  started  at 
a practical  solution  with  my  school  staff  and  boys,  who 
were  chiefly  Hindus,  with  what  result  you  will  see 
later  on. 

Among  the  chief  inhabitants  of  Srinagar  are  the  dogs, 
which  in  their  time  have  accomplished  much  useful  work, 
and  are  of  use  still,  and  will  be  so  as  long  as  the  insanitary 
conditions  of  the  city  and  habits  of  the  people  continue. 
When  one  remembers  that  very  few  houses,  possibly  one 
per  cent.,  possess  any  sanitary  conveniences,  as  the  inhabit- 
ants prefer  to  make  use  of  the  streets  as  their  forefathers 
have  done  before  them,  there  will  be  little  hope  of  im- 
provement, and  the  pariah  dogs  will  be  needed.  The 
Municipality  have  at  last  made  a law,  which  met  with 
strong  opposition  from  certain  city  fathers,  that  no  new 
house  may  be  built  unless  provision  be  made  for  a closet. 

When  one  has  spoken  to  the  people  about  their  insani- 
tary habits  and  the  danger  to  public  health,  the  one  and 
same  answer  is  given — viz.  that  their  forefathers  have 
always  managed  to  live  and  enjoy  their  city,  so  why 
should  they  seek  to  change  the  ancient  customs  and 
conditions  of  life.  Pariah  dogs  have  always  done  their 
duty  well,  so  why  deprive  them  of  their  livelihood. 

These  poor  dogs  have  a wretched  existence,  as  they 

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Streets  & Bazaars 

belong  to  no  one,  and  are  continually  stoned  and  kicked, 
and  sometimes  have  scalding  water  thrown  over  them 
when  they  come  too  near  to  the  shops  and  houses  on 
their  hunt  for  food.  They  are  more  often  than  not 
diseased  and  covered  with  mange  and  in  the  winter 
especially  are  a most  pitiable  sight  to  behold.  They 
would  be  really  strong,  fine  dogs  if  properly  fed  and  cared 
for,  but,  as  I said  before,  they  belong  to  no  one,  they 
are  pariahs.  In  the  summer  they  often  go  mad.  In  the 
winter  when  they  are  starving  they  become  savage,  then 
they  attack  women  and  children.  As  one  cycles  through 
the  city  one  is  often  attacked  by  them,  but  they  have  not 
much  pluck  unless  they  are  in  a large  pack.  They  have 
their  own  particular  quarters,  in  fact  they  divide  them- 
selves into  parishes,  and  woe  betide  that  dog  who  finds 
himself  alone  in  someone  else’s  parish. 

I have  often  made  use  of  this  parish  system  when 
attacked  by  them  and  anxious  to  rid  myself  of  their 
attentions.  I encourage  them  to  follow  me  out  of  their 
own  parish  into  the  adjacent  one,  when  immediately  they 
are  set  upon  by  those  of  the  parish  I have  entered ; not 
only  am  1 immediately  delivered  from  my  persecutors,  but 
am  also  saved  from  the  dogs  of  the  parish  I have  entered, 
as  they  are  all  busily  engaged  punishing  the  intruders  and 
forget  me  and  my  cycle. 

One  has  to  be  very  careful  of  one’s  own  dogs,  for  a 
fox  terrier  does  not  stand  a chance  when  attacked  by  two 
or  more  pariahs.  Many  English  dogs  have  been  torn  to 
pieces  by  them;  they  are  dealt  with  as  the  hounds  dispose 
of  a fox. 

One  hopes  that  before  many  years  have  passed  the 
citizens  of  Srinagar  will  have  learnt  self-respect,  so  that 
they  will  not  need  thousands  of  pariah  dogs  to  keep  their 
city  clean. 


I25 


CHAPTER  X 


TRADES,  LEPERS  AND  BEGGARS 

THE  shops  in  Srinagar,  as  in  all  Eastern  towns, 
protrude  themselves  on  to  the  streets,  so  that 
when  one  is  walking  after  dark  one  has  to  be 
careful  not  to  trip  up  over  the  short  ladder  leading  from 
the  street  up  to  the  shop  platform  or  seat. 

When  cycling  or  riding  on  horseback  in  a crowded 
thoroughfare  one  is  apt  to  knock  baskets  of  wares  off  the 
shop  fronts  into  the  streets. 

On  one  occasion  on  a frosty  morning  whilst  trotting 
down  a narrow  street  my  pony  side-slipped — I was  shot 
into  a shop  by  the  side  of  the  shopman  on  the  platform 
above,  whilst  the  pony  fell  on  his  side  under  the  platform, 
to  the  astonishment  of  the  shopman  and  amusement  of 
the  neighbours.  I was  able  to  join  in  the  laughter,  as 
neither  the  pony  nor  myself  suffered  any  damage. 

When  one  stops  in  the  street  before  a shop  to  make 
a purchase,  for  most  of  the  business  is  done  from  the 
street,  and  not  inside  the  shop,  an  interested  crowd  always 
collects,  eager  to  take  part  in  the  bargaining.  Cffiite  often 
a man  will  join  in  apparently  as  one’s  friend  and  adviser, 
telling  the  shopman  in  a loud  voice  to  play  the  game  and 
not  to  cheat  one,  while  at  the  same  time  he  is  talking 
secretly  with  his  eyes  or  fingers  to  the  shopman  to 
acquaint  him  how  far  it  is  safe  to  try  on  his  game. 

Talking  with  the  eyes  was  not  new  to  me,  for  I had 
seen  something  of  the  eye  language  practised  by  thieves 
when  I worked  in  Whitechapel  in  East  London, and  often 

u6 


Trades,  Lepers  &>  Beggars 

came  in  contact  with  this  class  of  sharpers.  So  when  I 
found  these  kind  helpers  around  me  I felt  as  if  I was 
again  amongst  old  pals. 

A great  number  of  the  shops  are  kept  by  Hindus,  such 
as  grocers’,  drapers’,  tailors’,  and  snuff  and  drug  shops  also, 
where  manufactured  brass  cups,  bowls  and  Hindu  gods 
are  sold,  but  all  the  shops  where  articles  of  brass,  copper, 
iron  or  wood  are  being  made,  and  butchers’  shops,  are 
kept  by  Mohammedans. 

There  are  very  few  eating  shops  and  liquor  shops,  but 
the  latter,  I am  sorry  to  say,  are  increasing,  for  those 
who  go  to  drink  do  so  in  order  to  get  drunk.  If  when 
passing  these  pubs,  after  dark  you  lift  up  the  dirty  curtain 
behind  the  counter  you  will  generally  see  one  or  more 
prostrate  forms  on  the  benches  or  floor. 

I can  remember  the  time  when  no  one  dared  to  be  seen 
carrying  a liquor  bottle  in  the  street,  as  public  opinion  was 
against  it,  and  the  smartness  with  which  they  would  hide 
it  under  their  blankets  when  they  caught  sight  of  any- 
one used  to  remind  me  of  a drunken  coster-woman,  one 
of  my  parishioners  in  East  London,  who  had  just  come 
out  of  a pub.  with  a black  bottle,  and  on  seeing  me 
covered  it  with  her  shawl.  On  my  asking  her  what  she 
had  just  tucked  up  under  her  arm,  “Just  bought  a little 
of  peppermint,  for  I do  suffer  that  bad  from  stomick- 
ache,”  said  she.  Stomach-aches  of  the  coster  lady’s  kind 
seem  to  be  on  the  increase  in  Srinagar,  though  one  rarely 
sees  a drunken  man  in  the  streets,  as  public  opinion  is  still 
against  the  use  of  alcohol  and  a drunkard  is  generally 
despised. 

A year  or  two  ago  an  Indian  gentleman  generally 
known  as  a babu  asked  me  to  help  him  to  start  a 
temperance  society,  and  did  me  the  honour  of  asking 
me  to  become  president  of  the  same.  I told  him  that 

127 


Trades,  Lepers  Sf  Beggars 

I did  not  think  that  there  was  any  need  for  a temperance 
society  at  present,  as  there  was  so  little  intemperance  in 
the  country,  thanks  to  the  prophet  Mohammed,  who  had 
forbidden  the  use  of  alcohol  to  his  followers,  and  also  on 
account  of  his  Highness  the  Maharajah’s  disapproval  of 
pubs,  and  drinking  generally. 

I also  considered  it  to  be  unw'ise  to  call  people’s 
attention  to  the  subject,  as  it  might  lead  them  from 
thinking  to  action  in  the  wrong  direction.  My  babu 
friend  did  not  agree  with  my  philosophy,  for  a few  days 
afterwards  he  came  to  tell  me  that  he  had  started  a 
temperance  society,  and  asked  me  to  help  him  with  a sub- 
scription, and  soon  I heard  that  wreekly  meetings  were  in 
full  swing,  for  babus  as  a rule  love  much  talking. 

After  a month  or  six  w^eeks  from  the  commencement 
of  the  society  my  babu  friend  came  to  me  in  great  grief 
to  seek  my  help,  for,  sad  to  say,  the  treasurer  of  the 
society  had  not  only  disappeared  with  all  the  money,  but 
had  taken  off  all  the  furniture  which  had  been  bought  to 
furnish  their  meeting-place.  Would  I use  my  influence 
to  secure  the  capture  of  the  runaway  and  also  the  stolen 
property?  This  was  not  all  the  bad  news,  for  at  the 
meeting  before  the  last  one  of  the  speakers  had  impressed 
upon  the  audience  that  it  was  folly  to  talk  against 
drunkenness  until  they  knew  and  understood  it  by 
practical  experience,  for  one  must  always  study  a subject 
thoroughly  before  attempting  to  teach  it,  and,  further, 
one  can  alwrays  help  one’s  brother  more  efficiently  if  one 
has  been  through  the  same  experience. 

“ So  I propose,”  said  he,  “ that  at  the  next  meeting 
every  member  shall  bring  a bottle  of  brandy — for  is  not 
that  German  brandy  only  one  rupee  per  bottle  ? — and  then, 
brothers,  wre  will  get  drunk  royally,  so  that  we  may  under- 
stand thoroughly  the  sad  experiences  of  our  drunken 


Trades,  Lepers  Beggars 

brothers,  but  we  must  not  drink  too  much  that  we  all 
kick  the  bucket.” 

Well,  this  epoch-making  speech  carried  the  meeting, 
and  at  the  next  meeting  the  members  came  not  empty- 
handed,  so  with  the  help  of  brandy  from  Germany  they 
passed  through  all  the  stages  of  their  poor  drunken 
brothers.  So  satisfactory  the  experiment  proved  to  be 
that  they  came  to  the  conclusion  that  intemperance  was 
more  entertaining  than  temperance,  and  thus  it  came  to 
pass  the  first  Srinagar  temperance  society  ceased  to  exist. 

The  fact  that  there  are  so  few  pubs,  in  the  city  keeps 
it  quiet,  and  one  seldom  sees  a brawl  in  the  bazaars  from 
this  cause.  The  Kashmiris  can  give  the  Westerner  points 
in  this  respect. 

The  vagaries  of  the  poor  lunatics  wandering  about  the 
streets  generally  attract  a crowd.  The  men  often  walk 
about  naked.  Sometimes  a kind-hearted  person  will  give 
them  a garment  to  cover  their  nakedness,  which  they  will 
as  often  as  not  dispose  of  at  once,  by  tearing  it  into 
shreds,  or  setting  fire  to  it  and  sitting  down  in  front  of  it 
to  warm  their  hands;  this  I have  seen  done  on  a very 
cold  day  in  winter.  It  is  especially  sad  to  see  the  women 
lunatics  wandering  about,  often  with  a baby,  which  they 
do  not  know  how  to  take  care  of ; and  some  men  are  so 
debased  and  vile  as  to  take  advantage  of  their  madness 
by  making  them  mothers,  but  in  no  way  helping  to  keep 
them  off  the  streets.  I hope  some  day  the  authorities 
will  understand  that  they  have  a duty  towards  these  poor, 
helpless  creatures. 

Fortunately  there  is  an  asylum  for  lepers  built  by  the 
State  and  handed  over  to  the  care  of  the  C.M.S.  Medical 
Mission,  so  that  these  afflicted  people  are  well  cared  for. 
When  one  is  accosted  by  lepers  in  the  bazaars — they  will 
often  push  up  their  fingerless  hands  in  your  face  to  draw 

129 


I 


Trades,  Lepers  Beggars 

forth  your  pity  and  alms — one  can  always  direct  them 
to  the  asylum  all  ready  for  them. 

Srinagar,  like  all  Eastern  cities,  swarms  with  beggars; 
most  of  them  are  professional  beggars ; some  actually  ride 
on  horseback,  which  reminds  me  of  the  old  English  song  : 

Hark  ! hark  ! how  the  dogs  do  bark, 

The  beggars  are  coming  to  town, 

Some  in  rags  and  some  on  nags 
And  some  in  velvet  gown. 

They  exist  in  their  scores,  because  the  people  will  give 
to  them,  thinking  that  they  gain  merit  by  doing  so. 
Many  of  the  beggars  are  frauds.  There  is  one  man  who 
has  for  years  pretended  to  be  a cripple ; he  crawls  about 
naked  except  for  a loin-cloth,  and  especially  on  rainy  or 
snowy  days  he  creeps  along  with  body  bent  and  crying 
and  shivering  as  he  moves  with  difficulty;  he  by  this 
trick  collects  a goodly  supply  of  coin.  I met  this  poor 
cripple  one  morning  on  coming  quickly  round  a corner  in 
the  street ; he  was  running  at  top  speed  and  roaring  with 
laughter  as  he  ran.  He  was  not  at  that  moment  ready 
to  help  his  fellow-countrymen  to  heap  up  merit.  It  does 
not  seem  to  matter  whether  a man  is  known  to  be  a fraud 
or  not,  he  receives  alms  all  the  same. 

One  can  apparently  gain  merit  from  bestowing  coin  on 
a fraud  as  easily  as  one  can  from  giving  to  a case  really 
needing  one’s  help.  Let  us  forget  the  beggars  and  look 
again  at  the  shops. 

There  is  one  particular  shop  which  attracts  one’s 
attention,  and  at  first  sight  often  gives  one  a start. 

You  see  sitting  in  a shop  a Mohammedan  with  a sharp 
knife  cutting  a bald  head  from  which  blood  is  often 
flowing.  Is  this  a public  murder  or  what ! On  closer 
inspection  you  see  that  it  is  only  the  barber  at  work. 

130 


Trades,  Lepers  & Beggars 

It  is  the  custom  among  the  Mohammedans  to  have 
their  heads  shaved  as  bald  as  the  coot ; or  if  it  is  a Hindu’s 
head,  he  prefers  to  have  a clean  pathway  about  four 
inches  wide  cut  down  the  centre  of  his  scalp  from  fore- 
head to  neck,  except  the  place  where  his  top-knot  sprouts ; 
that  is  left  long  enough  for  him  to  tie  in  a knot  or  two. 
Now  many,  if  not  most,  Kashmiris  suffer  from  diseased 
scalps.  A sort  of  white  fungus  spreads  over  the  scalp  (it 
is  called  “ scalled  head  ”),  so  when  the  razorman  sets  to 
work  he,  like  Shylock  of  old,  is  unable  to  do  his  job  with- 
put  shedding  blood.  It  is  not  the  custom  of  Kashmiri 
barbers  to  sterilise  their  razors,  so  the  infected  blade 
passes  on  the  disease  of  the  last  man  to  the  next  client, 
and  so  on. 

The  barber  is  also  the  dentist.  He  keeps  an  iron 
hook,  which  he  shoves  between  the  tooth  and  the 
gum,  and  then  hauls.  I believe  the  hook  always 
brings  up  something  if  it  does  not  break ; let  us  hope 
that  it  is  the  aching  tooth.  They  are  also  very  clever 
at  fixing  a broken  tooth  to  the  stump  or  to  the  next 
tooth  by  wiring  them  together;  in  the  same  way 
they  mend  broken  crockery.  An  old  man  on  my  school 
staff  had  his  two  front  teeth  wired  to  their  stumps.  I 
found  it  often  difficult  to  concentrate  my  attention  on  his 
words,  so  interesting  was  the  oscillating  of  his  front 
teeth. 

Still  further,  the  barber  is  the  match-maker.  He 
arranges  the  marriages  between  families.  The  family 
which  employs  him  allows  him  to  see  the  girl  that  is  to 
be  wedded ; he  then  visits  the  parents  of  the  hoped-for 
bridegroom,  and  sings  to  them  the  lady’s  charms,  which 
are  always  many.  If  he  has  been  sufficiently  paid  by  the 
family  who  sent  him,  he  can  allow  his  imagination  and 
falsehoods  to  run  riot,  for  the  lady  whose  beauty  and 

I3I 


Trades,  Lepers  Beggars 

virtues  he  extols  will  not  be  seen  by  the  bridegroom  until 
after  the  marriage,  when  the  bridegroom  takes  his  bride 
to  his  private  apartment  and  lifts  the  veil  to  see  the  lady 
with  whom  he  is  to  spend  his  life.  Many  bridegrooms 
have  to  suffer  as  Jacob  did  of  old  when  he  discovered 
that  the  one  under  the  veil  was  not  his  beloved  Rachel. 
I have  often  been  told  of  the  disappointment  suffered  by 
bridegrooms  to  find  their  wife  has  only  one  eye,  or  the 
face  disfigured  with  small-pox,  for  small-pox  plays  havoc 
with  faces  and  eyes.  Practically  everyone  in  Srinagar 
has  small-pox  some  time  during  his  life,  and  generally  when 
they  are  children.  I believe  it  is  a fact  that  half  the 
children  born  in  Srinagar  die  of  this  fell  disease. 

Well,  back  to  the  shops.  The  ones  which  generally  catch 
one’s  eye  are  those  where  men  are  working  at  embroidery 
work ; it  may  be  silk,  cotton  or  wool,  the  colouring  and 
patterns  often  displaying  great  taste.  Then  there  are  the 
saddlers’,  where  you  see  gay-coloured  saddle-pads  of  reds, 
yellows  and  blues ; the  embroidery  there  is  often  bold 
and  startling.  The  saddles  are  generally  of  cloth,  for 
the  Kashmiri  prefers  a soft  seat  to  a pigskin  one.  A 
Mohammedan  would  not  ride  on  pigskin,  and  to  a Hindu 
all  leather  is  anathema. 

When  one’s  eyes  become  tired  of  the  streets  and  shops 
one  can  look  up  and  notice  the  lattice  windows,  called 
“pinjra,”  of  various  designs. 

In  many  of  the  bazaars  the  houses  project  so  far  over 
the  streets  that  they  almost  touch  at  the  roof.  This  is 
convenient  for  those  who  wish  to  escape  from  fire,  or  the 
thief  who  is  hotly  pursued  and  finds  the  streets  unsafe. 
Occasionally  when  the  houses  take  on  such  a list  that 
they  look  like  kissing  one  another  beams  are  placed 
between  the  two  to  prevent  the  one  from  toppling  over 
on  to  the  other  and  embracing  it. 

!32 


Trades,  Lepers  & Beggars 

If  you  raise  your  eyes  a little  higher  you  will  probably 
see  the  everlasting  snows. 

How  often  has  this  sight  of  the  mountains  cheered 
one  up ! When  on  a sloshy  day  one  is  passing  mud- 
bespattered  pedestrians  who  seem  to  be  suffering  from 
the  dirt  and  gloom  round  them,  then  one  raises  one’s 
eyes  to  the  everlasting  snows  and  one  goes  on  one’s  way 
rejoicing. 

Srinagar,  like  most  cities,  has  its  quarters  for  certain 
classes  and  trades.  The  coppersmiths  are  as  easily  known 
by  the  continual  din  as  the  Brahmans’  quarters  by  their 
conservatism  to  the  custom  of  their  forefathers  in  the 
matter  of  filth  and  superabundant  stench.  In  the  copper 
bazaar  one  can  sometimes  pick  up  some  really  elegant  and 
quaintly  shaped  jugs  and  basins  of  ancient  make,  as  well 
as  excellent  imitations  of  the  same,  which  are  sold  to  the 
unwary  as  the  real  article.  The  merchants  continually  do 
themselves  well  when  passing  off  their  dragon-shaped  jugs 
of  curious  design  as  from  Lassa. 

There  is  a special  jug  which  takes  the  fancy  of  most 
visitors,  and  that  is  a jug  of  copper,  shaped  like  a duck, 
called  “ batish,”  or  female  duck,  which  is  used  for  blowing 
up  the  fire,  as  it  does  in  a most  workmanlike  manner.  It 
is  filled  with  water  and  placed  on  the  fire,  and  when  the 
water  boils  the  steam  issues  from  its  long  beak,  which 
being  directed  towards  the  spot  that  needs  its  attention, 
the  pressure  of  steam  soon  does  its  work,  unless,  as  some- 
times happens,  it  works  too  vigorously,  when  it  blows  the 
hot  charcoal  ashes  clean  out  of  the  grate.  When  the 
duck  has  blown  itself  dry  there  is  no  other  way  for 
the  water  to  find  its  way  to  the  duck’s  interior  again 
except  through  its  beak,  which  aperture  is  too  small  to 
allow  of  water  being  poured  in,  so  the  duck  has  to  be 
heated  and  then  its  beak  held  in  a glass  of  water,  which 

*33 


Trades,  Lepers  §f  Beggars 

it  will  itself  drink  up  until  its  body  and  the  air  within  it 
cools. 

Near  the  coppersmiths’  quarters  is  a very  large  mosque 
called  the  Jumma  Musjid,  which  is  well  worth  a visit. 

This  famous  mosque,  the  greatest  in  Srinagar,  was 
originally  built  by  Sikandar  the  Iconoclast  in  1404  with 
the  materials  of  a large  stone  temple  erected  by  King 
Tarapeeda.  It  was  destroyed  by  fire  three  times.  The 
present  structure  was  raised  by  Aurangzeb  in  1674. 
This  site  is  considered  sacred  by  the  Buddhists  also,  and 
even  now  the  Buddhists  from  Ladakh  and  other  places 
come  to  visit  this  place. 

It  is  on  this  side  of  the  city  that  you  see  many  travellers 
coming  in,  for  the  main  road  from  Central  Asia  enters 
here.  Some  of  the  travellers  have  never  seen  this  great 
city  before,  and  they  look  somewhat  frightened  and  awe- 
inspired,  for  they  have  heard  many  tales  of  their  friends 
falling  among  thieves,  and  finding  themselves  in  the  police 
lock-up  instead  of  those  who  have  robbed  them,  and, 
moreover,  having  lost  all  the  money  that  they  had  brought 
with  which  to  make  their  necessary  purchases. 

A villager  is  known  at  once  by  his  dress  and  speech. 
They  generally  carry  their  shoes  on  their  heads  until 
they  reach  the  bazaars,  as  they  have  learnt  from 
experience  that  it  wears  out  shoes  to  walk  in  them. 

The  women  often  carry  much  else  on  their  heads, 
such  as  their  cooking  vessels  and  many  household  gods, 
as  they  walk  behind  their  lords  and  masters ; this  habit 
teaches  them  to  carry  themselves  gracefully  as  they 
walk. 

It  is  a sight  to  see  the  milkmen  coming  to  the  city 
in  the  early  mornings.  They  come  in  from  their  villages 
many  miles  distant  at  a jog-trot,  carrying  three  earthen- 
ware pots  full  of  milk,  one  on  the  top  of  the  other,  poised 

134 


Milkmen  Bound  for  the  City. 


Trades,  Lepers  Beggars 

on  their  shoulders.  Even  the  thought  of  this  great 
weight  makes  one’s  own  back  ache  to  look  at  them. 

One  might  imagine  that  after  a journey  of  four  or  five 
miles  of  trotting  the  milk  would  be  turned  to  butter 
when  delivered  to  the  purchaser,  but  it  is  not  so,  as  these 
men  run  bare-footed,  and  run  without  jerking,  so  easy 
is  their  movement.  I expect  the  great  weight  on  their 
shoulders  makes  them  run  easy-like.  I have  seen  these 
milkmen  after  their  long  run  when  just  outside  the  city 
stopped  by  the  police  and  sepoys  and  forced  to  give  up 
their  milk  on  pretence  that  they  have  been  sent  by  some 
big  official,  so  unless  there  happens  to  be  some  God-fearing 
man  near  to  defend  them  it  is  of  no  use  their  refusing. 
The  ordinary  man  in  the  street  is  generally  too  frightened 
to  interfere,  so  those  uniformed  robbers  play  their  own 
game  with  impunity.  I have  had  the  good  luck  to  come 
upon  them  at  the  right  moment  more  than  once. 

On  one  occasion  I saw  four  sepoys  set  upon  a milkman, 
and  they  were  foolish  enough  to  tell  me  that  they  were 
doing  so  under  orders  from  the  British  Resident.  Their 
stakes  were  a bit  too  high,  and  they  lived  to  repent 
taking  the  Resident’s  name  in  vain. 

One  is  bound  to  get  mixed  up  in  comic  operas  in  this 
land.  Sometimes  they  are  almost  serious,  bordering  on 
the  tragic,  but  most  of  them  are  of  a humorous  nature,  or 
can  be  turned  into  such.  Here  is  an  instance : 

Two  villagers  had  just  arrived  in  the  great  city  and  were 
properly  awe-inspired.  I happened  to  light  upon  them  just 
as  a gentleman  in  blue  had  discovered  that  these  innocents 
might  be  useful  to  him,  and  was  ordering  them  in  a loud 
voice,  with  gestures  to  match,  to  remove  a heavy  chest 
from  a shop.  The  two  visitors  to  Srinagar  were  telling 
him  that  they  had  come  to  town  on  business  and 
wished  to  get  on  with  it,  but  the  man  in  blue  thought 

J35 


Trades,  Lepers  &?  Beggars 

his  business  more  important.  These  villagers  naturally- 
feared  that  this  was  a trick  to  get  them  in  the  lock-up, 
for  they  did  not  know  what  valuables  might  not  be  in 
that  chest.  So  I asked  them  if  they  wished  to  work  for 
this  blue  gentleman.  They  did  not  answer  at  once;  they 
looked  at  me  hard,  and  then  at  the  gentleman  in  blue  in 
a scared  way.  I suppose  they  were  trying  to  ascertain 
who  was  likely  to  come  out  top,  but  as  I was  mounted  and 
had  a hunting-crop  in  my  hand,  they  gave  me  the  casting 
vote,  and  answered  that  they  did  not  wish  to  carry  the 
chest.  So  I ordered  them  not  to  carry  it,  but  to  go  on 
with  their  own  business  and  I would  settle  this  little  busi- 
ness for  them;  so  they  went  on  their  way  rejoicing.  But 
not  so  the  man  in  blue,  for  I ordered  him  to  do  his  own 
job,  by  carrying  the  chest  himself,  and  I saw  him  do  it. 
It  was  a decidedly  heavy  chest,  I admit,  and  as  he  bent 
under  it  it  reminded  me  of  the  Turkish  coolies  I had 
seen  in  Constantinople  staggering  under  their  huge  loads. 
I used  to  feel  sorry  for  them,  but  I cannot  say  that  I had 
any  feelings  of  sorrow  in  my  heart  for  this  gentleman  in 
blue. 

Srinagar  is  a most  interesting  town  from  a human  point 
of  view,  for  one  never  knows  what  will  turn  up  next, 
especially  if  one  comes  round  a corner  sharp.  I hardly 
ever  pass  through  the  city  without  one  or  more  humorous 
or  interesting  event  happening. 


136 


CHAPTER  XI 


FASHIONS  IN  DRESS 

IF  one  walks  through  the  streets  one  has  naturally 
more  opportunities  for  picking  up  knowledge  con- 
cerning the  people  than  when  one  is  riding.  The 
people  of  the  East  as  a rule  walk  slower  than  Westerners, 
so  one  catches  up  the  people  in  front.  It  is  interesting 
to  learn  the  class  of  person  one  is  overtaking.  One  can 
obtain  the  information  to  a great  extent  from  the  way 
in  which  the  turban  is  tied,  for  the  various  trades  have 
different  ways  of  binding  on  their  turbans,  as  well  as 
those  of  different  religions  and  castes.  The  Brahman, 
for  instance,  ties  his  tight  like  a head  bandage ; the 
butcher  also  binds  his  turban  tight,  but  the  cloth  is 
a much  broader  strip,  and  more  of  it,  therefore  it  is  a 
much  bigger  pagri  than  that  of  the  Brahman.  Then 
many  tie  their  pagris  loosely,  such  as  the  carpenter  or 
boatman,  but  there,  again,  they  are  not  of  the  same  shape. 
There  are  some  who  put  the  ends  of  their  pagris  sticking 
upwards  at  the  back  of  their  heads  like  a cockade,  whilst 
others  like  to  have  a long  tail  down  their  backs.  The 
turban  or  pagri,  whichever  you  like  to  call  it,  is  a very 
sensible  head-gear.  It  keeps  the  head  cool  in  the  summer 
as  well  as  warm  in  the  winter;  it  acts  as  a helmet  and 
a protection  to  the  head  from  blows  of  any  kind.  It  also 
sets  off  the  face  and  is  most  becoming.  Even  an  ugly 
face  looks  quite  presentable  when  the  head  is  adorned 
with  a pagri.  Its  uses  are  unending.  I mention  a few, 
as  I have  seen  them.  A pony  kicks  off  his  rider  and 

i37 


Fashions  in  Dress 

bolts  at  once ; the  would-be  rider,  when  he  has  picked 
himself  up,  makes  a rope  and  lasso  of  the  pagri  and 
catches  the  runaway,  for  a pagri  may  be  sixteen  yards 
long.  A man  wishes  to  climb  a tree,  the  bole  of  which 
may  be  too  smooth  and  of  too  wide  girth  to  swarm. 
The  pagri  becomes  a rope  and  is  thrown,  with  the  help 
of  a stone,  over  a branch,  and  at  once  there  is  a way  up 
the  tree.  It  may  be  the  rope  at  the  well  is  broken ; no 
matter,  one  or  more  pagris  are  at  hand.  A thief  has  to 
be  kept  secure  until  the  police  arrive;  well,  there  is  the 
pagri.  It  is  used  as  a purse,  a letter  rack,  a towel, 
a pocket-handkerchief.  Your  cook  will  probably  strain 
your  coffee  with  the  tail  of  his  pagri,  and  make  use  of  it 
in  any  of  his  culinary  arts.  I have  seen  an  official  with 
several  servants  in  attendance — this  great  man  wished 
to  blow  his  nose,  and  although  he  was  himself  wearing 
a pagri  with  a long  tail  behind,  he  notwithstanding  called 
up  one  of  his  servants  and  blew  his  nose  in  the  tail  of  his 
servant’s  pagri,  a rather  smart  way,  I thought,  of  making 
use  of  other  people’s  property  to  save  one’s  own. 

Of  late  I have  seen  my  pupils  use  their  pagris  in  all 
sorts  of  ways  in  social  service  for  the  sick  and  distressed, 
tearing  them  up  for  bandages  for  wounds,  for  tying  one 
unable  to  walk  to  the  back  of  one  strong  boy  who  can, 
for  towing  boats  to  help  boatmen,  for  catching  runaway 
animals,  and  so  forth.  I guess  the  pagri  is  “ some  hat,” 
as  the  Americans  would  say. 

It  is  not  the  pagri  only  which  enables  one  to  distin- 
guish classes  and  castes,  etc.,  for  the  dresses  also  differ. 
Mohammedan  men  and  women  dress  quite  differently 
from  Hindu  men  and  women.  It  is  true  that  they  have 
a national  dress  called  the  “ pheron,”  but  its  cut  varies. 
The  pheron  is  an  ugly  garment  at  its  best.  It  is  said 
that  when  the  Afghans  conquered  Kashmir  they  forced 

138 


Fashions  in  Dress 

the  men  to  wear  the  same  dress  as  the  women,  to  be  in 
keeping  with  their  character.  The  Brahmans’  pheron 
differs  from  that  of  the  Brahman  women  and  from  that 
of  the  Mohammedan  men  and  women  in  that  it  has 
long  sleeves,  which  are  almost  twice  as  long  as  a man’s 
arm.  I have  not  yet  discovered  the  reason  for  this 
length,  but  they  do  make  use  of  it  when  drinking  hot 
tea  out  of  their  brass  cups,  or  when  taking  pots  off  a 
fire,  as  we  use  a kettle-holder,  or  when  they  are  obliged 
to  hold  anything  unclean,  such  as  leather — for  instance, 
the  reins  of  a pony.  Also  they  use  it  as  a weapon. 
When  they  are  angry  they  flourish  this  long  sleeve  about 
and  beat  their  adversary  with  it,  and  a very  amusing 
performance  it  always  is. 

This  voluminous  garment  is  most  suitable  for  users  of 
the  kangri,  because  when  they  squat  down  and  place  the 
fire  pot  between  their  legs  it  forms  a most  excellent  tent, 
in  fact  a primitive  Turkish  bath.  I have  seen  it  used  on 
more  than  one  occasion  as  a hiding-place.  When  a 
cheeky  boy  is  running  away  from  his  wrathful  pursuer, 
and  happens  to  be  lucky  in  reaching  his  mother,  he  is 
safe  out  of  sight  by  the  time  his  pursuer  arrives  at  the 
house.  The  mother,  who  is  squatting  on  the  floor,  of 
course,  swears  solemnly  that  she  has  not  seen  the  boy, 
and  suggests  his  seeking  him  elsewhere ; but  I have 
known  one  occasion  when  the  mother  was  given  away  on 
account  of  a foot  not  being  properly  covered,  one’s  reason 
suggesting  that  even  Kashmiri  women  have  not  three  feet. 
I myself  have  discovered  a much-wanted  man  by  this 
process  of  reasoning  when  he,  though  full-grown,  had 
taken  cover  under  a lady’s  pheron. 

The  Kashmiri  Brahman  in  his  own  home,  and  often  in 
the  street,  does  not  wear  any  unmentionables  or  socks, 
but  ends  up  at  the  bottom  with  a pair  of  wooden  clogs 

* 39 


Fashions  in  Dress 

which  are  kept  on  to  the  feet  either  by  a straw  strap 
which  goes  over  his  toes,  or  by  the  aid  of  a w'ooden  knob 
at  the  toe  of  the  clog,  which  he  grasps  between  his  big 
toe  and  the  toe  next  it.  Leather  is  abhorrent  to  Brahmans ; 
they  prefer  wooden  clogs,  unless  their  business  may 
require  their  moving  at  a greater  pace  than  one  and  a 
half  miles  per  hour,  and  so  compel  them  to  use  the  leather 
shoe.  No  Brahman’s  toilet  is  complete  unless  he  has  his 
caste  marks,  w'hich  consist  of  a dab  of  red  or  yellow 
paint,  or  both,  and  often  a third  colour,  grey,  dabbed  on 
from  the  middle  of  his  forehead  and  down  the  bridge  of 
his  nose,  also  on  the  lobe  of  each  ear,  and  on  his  throat 
near  the  apple.  These  three  colours  remind  him  of  the 
trinity  of  gods,  Shiva,  Brahma  and  Vishnu.  Then  a 
medal  hangs  from  his  neck  by  a string  made  of  gold, 
silver,  or  copper,  on  which  is  inscribed  his  fate,  and  is 
supposed  to  preserve  him  from  (i)  the  evil  influences 
of  the  planets,  (2)  evil  spirits,  (3)  the  evil  eye.  The 
engraving  on  the  medal  may  represent  the  image  of  one 
of  the  gods  or  goddesses,  one  of  the  planets,  or  some 
magical  figure. 

Every  Brahman  wears  a thread,  which  is  thrown  over 
the  left  shoulder  and  under  the  right  armpit ; it  is  made 
of  three  strands  of  cotton  thread,  until  the  marriage  day, 
wrhen  three  more  cotton  strands  are  added.  This  thread 
is  never  removed  from  the  body,  except  three  times  a 
year:  on  the  Brahman’s  birthday,  on  the  Shiv  Ratri  and 
on  the  Hindu  New  Year,  when  the  priest  puts  on  a new 
one.  It  must  be  washed  every  day,  and  during  the 
process  a “ mantra  ” must  be  recited  in  praise  of  the 
goddess  Goitree.  Should  the  thread  break,  it  cannot  be 
tied  or  knotted,  for  the  previous  knot  is  holy  and  must 
be  burnt,  but  the  thread  may  be  thrown  away.  A new' 
thread  must  be  obtained  from  a priest.  The  thread  must 

140 


Fashions  in  Dress 

be  in  length  twenty-six  times  the  breadth  of  the  hand 
for  an  unmarried  man,  and  double  the  length  for  a 
married  man. 

There  is  one  particular  fashion  in  dress  which  often 
catches  one’s  eye,  and  that  is  w hen  the  coat  or  trousers  are 
made  out  of  a than  of  white  cotton  cloth.  On  every  than 
the  trade  mark  is  printed  in  blue.  Sometimes  it  is  the 
face  of  a man  or  animal  and  the  number  of  yards  in  the 
than.  Now  the  Kashmiri  takes  a fancy  for  this  trade 
mark,  so  the  tailor  arranges  that  it  shall  appear  on  some 
part  of  the  white  suit.  Sometimes  you  will  see  a dog’s 
head  on  the  seat  of  the  trousers,  or  the  maker’s  name  in 
blue  capitals  on  the  tail  of  his  coat,  or  as  it  can  be  seen 
to-day  on  the  person  of  a certain  very  fat  Government 
servant  “ 36  YARDS  ” standing  out  in  bold  relief  on 
that  part  of  the  garment  which  protects  his  bulky  form, 
which  makes  one  inquisitive  to  ascertain  the  exact 
girth  of  this  individual.  Anyway,  it  adds  much  to  his 
importance. 

The  ladies,  and  especially  of  the  Hindu  persuasion, 
prefer  their  garments  to  be  of  very  bright  colours,  bright 
oranges  and  pinks  being  their  special  colours;  and  they 
certainly  brighten  up  their  surroundings. 


CHAPTER  XII 

BRAHMANS  AND  SADHUS 

WHEN  a Brahman  takes  up  work  as  a clerk  in 
the  State  service,  which  is  the  ambition  of 
most  of  them,  he  dresses  very  much  like  the 
babu  of  India — he  dons  tight-fitting  trousers.  If  he  is 
able  to  dress  in  the  height  of  fashion  the  legs  of  his 
trousers  will  be  a foot  or  more  longer  than  his  legs,  and 
have  to  dispose  of  themselves  in  many  folds  and  creases 
at  his  ankles.  Moreover  the  trousers  must  fit  round  the 
legs  like  a glove ; so  tight  must  they  be  that  the  only  way 
to  get  them  to  pass  the  heel  is  by  means  of  a highly 
glazed  piece  of  paper,  a shoe-horn  being  too  thick  and 
clumsy  for  the  operation.  Instead  of  a pheron  he  wears 
a coat  and  waistcoat,  which  are  generally  of  black  alpaca ; 
below  the  waistcoat  he  puts  on  a cotton  shirt,  which  is 
worn  outside  and  not  inside  the  trousers,  as  is  the  fashion 
in  the  West.  This  custom  is  important,  for  by  wearing 
the  shirt  outside  he  always  has  a towel  and  pocket- 
handkerchief  at  hand.  Athough  he  adopts  a Western 
shirt,  he  very  seldom  runs  to  a collar  and  tie ; if  he  has 
taken  to  a collar  he  generally  forgets  to  send  it  to  the 
wash.  He  usually  wears  the  Eastern  shoe  with  socks, 
but  nowadays  patent-leather  shoes  have  come  into 
fashion,  but  he  usually  forgets  to  lace  them.  Although 
this  kit  strikes  one  as  a great  mix-up  of  the  East  and 

142 


Brahmans  & Sadhus 

West,  yet  it  is  infinitely  preferable  to  the  unsightly 
and  unmanly  garb  of  the  pheron.  Where  the  Eastern 
has  the  better  of  the  Western  in  dress  is  his  head- 
gear,  which,  as  I said  before,  is  as  becoming  as  it  is 
serviceable. 

When  the  Brahman  clerk  goes  to  his  house  in  the 
evening  he  casts  off  his  day  dress  and  goes  back  to  the 
dress  of  his  forefathers,  for  in  that  kit  alone  can  he  really 
feel  at  home. 

The  manner  of  the  Brahman  putting  on  and  taking  off 
his  garments  is  a true  picture  of  his  inside.  When  he  is 
in  his  home  he  is  an  out-and-out  Easterner  in  manner, 
customs  and  beliefs,  but  when  he  is  in  his  office  you 
might  think  by  his  talk  that  he  had  taken  on  Western 
ideas  and  beliefs,  but  it  is  not  so,  they  mean  nothing 
more  to  him  than  does  his  babu  dress. 

I have  often  marvelled  at  their  powers  of  acting,  for 
they  are  great,  and  in  their  power  to  keep  it  up. 

Many  a time  and  oft  have  I seen  my  fellow-countrymen 
taken  in  by  their  consummate  acting  and  patience  in 
order  to  gain  their  ends,  and  have  likewise  been  duped 
myself.  They  are  great  readers  of  character,  and  find 
out  your  strong  or  weak  points  very  quickly.  They  are 
past  masters  in  the  art  of  flattery.  I have  seen  many 
Europeans  fall  before  it,  and  through  flattering  become 
the  personal  confidants  of  their  masters,  to  the  detriment 
of  any  honest  men  in  their  department.  In  all  my  time 
in  Kashmir  nothing  has  distressed  me  more  than  to 
see  my  fellow-countrymen  done  down  by  these  clever 
flatterers,  for  over  and  over  again  have  I seen  in  conse- 
quence of  it  the  honest  men  go  under  and  the  scoundrels 
flourishing.  I can  say  further  that  I have  seen  honest 
men  utterly  beggared,  and  I know  of  several  scoundrels 
now  rejoicing  in  their  riches  who  ought  to  be  in  gaol. 

H3 


Brahmans  &?  Sadhus 

Many  years  ago  at  a ruridecanal  meeting  in  London 
we  were  discussing  how  best  to  deal  with  that  class  of 
sharper  who  trades  on  religion  in  order  to  procure  charity 
out  of  the  tender-hearted,  and  giving  our  experiences 
how  we  ourselves  had  been  taken  in  by  them.  When 
a certain  padre  stood  up  and  told  the  house  that  as  for 
himself  he  had  always  proved  to  be  a match  for  them  and 
had  never  been  taken  in,  this  statement  was  received  with 
a roar  of  laughter,  as  this  particular  man  was  known  to  be 
an  easy  prey  to  the  cadger,  simply  because  he  thought 
himself  infallible.  I fear  we  only  hurt  the  feelings  of 
this  padre  and  were  unable  to  shake  the  faith  that  was 
in  him.  It  is  a misfortune  for  anyone  in  England  to 
believe  himself  to  be  a cadger-proof,  but  it  is  absolutely 
disastrous  for  those  in  authority  in  India  to  consider 
themselves  proof  against  flatterers  and  intriguers,  for  it 
leads  to  so  much  unnecessary  suffering  and  injustice. 

I will  give  an  instance  of  a simple  case  when  I was  not 
taken  in. 

A Brahman  holy  man,  generally  known  as  a Sadhu, 
visited  me  one  morning,  saying  that  he  was  interested  in 
Christianity,  and  that  he  had  heard  what  a wonderfully 
godly  man  I was,  etc.,  etc.,  and  would  I give  him  a Holy 
Bible  so  that  he  might  study  it  himself,  and  also  asked 
me  to  appoint  a time  when  he  might  come  and  study  it 
with  me.  He  was  a curious  object  to  look  at:  he  was 
tall  and  thin,  with  long,  tapering  fingers,  and  long  nails ; 
the  hair  on  his  face,  which  was  red,  stuck  out  at  a right 
angle,  which  gave  the  impression  that  one  was  looking  at 
the  sun  in  all  its  glory  with  red  rays  shooting  forth,  or  it 
might  be  a halo  around  this  saint’s  head.  I did  not  rise 
to  the  Sadhu’s  pious  request,  as  1 felt  that  he  had  some- 
thing much  nearer  his  heart  than  the  Bible.  He  seeing 
that  I was  not  in  a suitable  religious  mood  asked  leave  to 

144 


I 


Photo  by]  [ Vishu  Xath. 

A Brahman  Woman. 

Kashmir  women  do  not  have  a working  dress.  This  one  has  been  squatting  on  a filthy 
bank  cleaning  her  greasy  pots  with  mud  whilst  wearing  all  her  gold  and  silver  and 
precious  stones.  She  has  no  trinket  box  at  home  nor  any  place  to  store  anything,  so  besides 
wearing  all  her  clothes  and  valuables  she  has  both  pockets  full,  and  tucked  into  her  sash  a 
handkerchief,  knife,  comb  and  snuff-box,  and  in  the  fold  of  her  sleeve  snuff  and  sugar  iq 
screws  of  paper,  a needle  and  cotton  and  various  other  things. 


Brahmans  & Sadhus 

go.  He  came  again  some  days  after,  and  finding  me  in 
a mood  that  he  thought  more  in  tune  with  the  thoughts 
in  his  own  heart,  after  a short  preface  of  flattery  he 
came  wonderfully  quickly  to  the  point,  which  was  this: 
Would  I grant  his  son  a scholarship  if  he  sent  him  to 
the  Mission  School  ? I asked  him  why  he  thought  that  I 
should  give  his  son  a scholarship. 

“ Because,”  said  he,  “I  am  a holy  man,  and  worship 
God  all  day  long  under  a chenar-tree,  and  therefore 
cannot  support  my  family.” 

“ But,”  I said,  “ surely  if  you  are  a holy  man  and 
worship  God  your  first  duty  would  be  to  take  care  of 
your  wife  and  family.” 

“ No,”  said  he ; “ for  I have  renounced  them  all,  and 
spend  my  days  sitting  under  a chenar-tree  thinking  of 
God.” 

I answered  that  I could  be  no  party  to  such  a life,  for 
a husband’s  and  father’s  first  duty  must  be  to  his  wife 
and  family.  But  he  failed  to  see  my  point  of  view  and 
pressed  for  the  scholarship.  So,  to  cut  the  story  short, 
we  came  to  a practical  agreement.  I promised  to  give  his 
son  a scholarship  if  he  on  his  part  would  give  up  wasting 
his  whole  day  sitting  under  a tree  and  would  instead  get 
to  work  and  earn  a livelihood  for  himself  and  family. 

He  would  not  close  with  this  offer,  so  we  parted. 
About  a year  after  this  interview  a tall,  thin  gentleman 
with  a clean-shaven  face,  dressed  in  the  ordinary  babu’s 
dress,  with  his  shirt  outside  his  trousers,  and  I think  he 
had  patent-leather  shoes  with  laces  untied,  came  up  to 
me  with  a broad  grin  and  held  out  his  hand  for  me 
to  shake.  I racked  my  brain  to  think  who  my  visitor 
could  possibly  be ; that  he  knew  me  was  evident  from  his 
broad  grin;  but  it  was  not  until  I had  grasped  that  taper- 
ing, muscleless  hand  that  I tumbled  to  it.  It  was  my 

*45 


K 


Brahmans  &?  Sadhus 

scholarship-wanting  friend,  the  holy  Sadhu,  but  the  red 
halo  had  departed.  He  was  but  a common  or  garden 
clerk  in  State  service  who  stood  before  me.  He  had 
fulfilled  his  part  of  the  bargain:  he  had  given  up  a 
Sadhu’s  life  for  pen-driving  and  was  receiving  a monthly 
salary  whereby  he  could  support  his  family.  So  the 
bargain  was  clenched.  His  son  came  to  school  as  a 
scholar  and  proved  himself  to  be  an  exceptionally  intelli- 
gent youth ; from  school  he  passed  on  to  the  college, 
and  now  is  in  the  police  and  supports  his  mother,  as  my 
friend  the  Sadhu  has  passed  to  the  greater  life,  into  the 
Beyond. 

Talking  of  Sadhus,  every  summer  about  the  month  of 
July  the  Sadhus  swarm  in  from  India,  and  pass  through 
Srinagar  on  their  way  to  the  sacred  cave  of  Amar  Nath, 
the  Lord  of  Life,  which  is  situated  in  a mountain  about 
six  marches  from  Srinagar  at  a height  of  13,000  feet. 
They  arrive  in  their  hundreds,  a noisy  lot  of  yellow-and- 
orange-robed  or  naked  fellows,  smeared  with  ashes.  In 
the  city  one  sees  them  marching  in  parties  of  ten  or 
more,  blowing  their  conch  shells  and  waving  bright  red 
iron  tridents,  and  holding  out  their  brass  bowls  for  alms. 
Crowding  into  the  country  as  they  do,  they  sometimes 
bring  cholera  with  them  and  start  an  epidemic  causing 
thousands  of  deaths.  On  one  occasion  when  they  had 
brought  in  cholera  Dr  Neve  spoke  to  one  on  this  subject, 
and  he  answered : “ All  men  have  to  die  some  time  or 
other.  I die,  you  die,  we  all  die,  so  what  does  it 
matter?”  I have  watched  them  often  in  cholera 
epidemics,  when  everyone  is  scared,  and  is  in  need  of 
cheering  and  comforting.  These  naked,  holy  fellows 
march  in  parties  of  a dozen  or  so,  in  single  file,  shouting, 
stamping  their  feet  in  time  as  they  go  from  house  to 
house,  collecting  alms,  telling  the  women  that  they  will 

146 


Brahmans  Sadhus 

die  if  they  do  not  pay  up  properly.  Their  appearance  is 
enough  to  frighten  the  women,  for  they  have  long  matted 
hair,  and  their  faces  and  bodies  are  smeared  with  ashes, 
and  very  often  they  are  drunk  with  bang  or  opium.  The 
Hindus  give  them  great  reverence,  for  they  are  afraid  of 
their  curses.  It  is  not  only  the  ignorant  people,  but  the 
educated  Hindus  also,  who  give  the  Sadhus  great  rever- 
ence. Much  money  is  spent  by  rajas  and  others  on  them. 
An  Indian  gentleman  speaking  at  a meeting  for  the  C.O.S. 
said  that  £13,000,000  is  spent  on  them  annually. 

I was  returning  one  night  from  a Hindu  reform  club 
meeting  with  an  educated  Hindu  who  had  been  delivering 
himself  of  his  ideas  on  temperance,  and  he  asked  me  if 
I knew  a certain  holy  man  named  Ram  Chand.  He  was 
somewhat  shocked  at  my  ignorance  when  I said  that  I 
had  never  heard  of  his  holiness,  “ For,”  said  he,  “ this 
man  is  a very  holy  man,  and  I always  go  to  him  for 
advice.”  I asked  him  in  what  ways  Ram  Chand  showed 
his  holiness ; did  he  help  the  poor  or  relieve  widows  in 
their  distress  ? “ Oh  no,”  he  said,  “ he  does  not  do  any- 

thing, for  he  is  a very  holy  man.”  Again  I asked  : “ How 
do  you  know  that  he  is  such  a holy  man  ? ” “ Why,” 

said  he,  “ he  can  hold  his  breath  for  three  minutes.” 
My  companion  then  looked  at  me  hard  to  see  how  I took 
this  astounding  news,  this  marvellous  proof  of  holiness. 
I fear  I am  very  mundane,  so  I could  not  work  up  any 
enthusiasm  over  it.  Now  it  might  have  been  different  if 
he  had  told  me  that  his  holy  man  could  swim  under  water 
for  three  minutes  and  make  some  use  of  his  power  of 
not  breathing  by  saving  the  life  of  drowning  persons, 
but  I suppose  if  he  did  that  no  one  would  go  to  him 
for  advice,  and  no  rupees  would  come  his  way. 

I fear  the  Sadhus  that  I have  seen  have  not  impressed 
me  with  the  idea  of  holiness ; no,  not  even  when  I have 

147 


Brahmans  Sadhus 

seen  them  lying  on  their  beds  of  spikes,  or  those  who 
have  kept  their  fists  closed  and  allowed  their  finger-nails 
to  grow  through  their  hands,  or  any  of  their  many  self- 
inflicted  tortures.  There  is  no  doubt  that  there  are  some 
really  holy  men  amongst  them,  but  they  are  crow'ded  out 
by  the  baser  sort.  I should  like  to  mention  one  who 
showed  himself  to  be  an  honest  man  and  a sportsman. 

A certain  yellow-robed  and  much-travelled  Sadhu 
visited  Kashmir  with  his  cheelas.  He  had  travelled  in 
Europe  and  America,  and  was  highly  educated.  At  the 
time  of  his  visit  a certain  section  of  the  Brahman 
community  were  very  anxious  to  obtain  his  aid  in 
establishing  a Brahman  school,  so  they  asked  him  to 
attend  a public  meeting  at  their  big  temple  so  that  he 
might  add  his  weight  to  the  scheme.  During  the  pro- 
ceedings the  President  made  some  false  statements 
concerning  the  Mission  School,  which  the  Sadhu  accepted 
as  true,  and  therefore  spoke  against  the  Mission  School. 

Our  headmaster  having  heard  this  went  to  see  him, 
and  invited  him  to  the  Mission  School  in  order  that  he 
might  see  for  himself.  He  accepted  the  invitation  and 
brought  with  him  one  of  his  cheelas  who  had  been  a 
student  in  the  Mission  School.  He  became  greatly 
interested  in  all  he  saw  and  heard,  with  the  result  that 
he  called  a meeting  of  the  Brahmans  in  the  temple  and 
delivered  a lecture  on  the  methods  of  the  teaching  given 
in  the  Mission  School,  backing  it  up  by  giving  his  experi- 
ences of  the  schools  in  the  West.  He  then  advised  all 
parents  to  send  their  boys  to  the  Mission  School  instead 
of  establishing  a Brahman  school,  and  finally  called  upon 
the  President  to  withdraw  his  words  uttered  at  the  last 
public  meeting  and  to  apologise. 

I give  the  case  of  a Sadhu  acting  in  a gallant  manner. 
It  was  told  to  me  first-hand  by  an  old  lady.  It  happened 

148 


Brahmans  Sadhus 

at  the  commencement  of  the  Indian  Mutiny  in  May  1857. 
She  was  then  a girl  of  seventeen,  and  was  with  a party 
of  eight  others  who  had  managed  to  escape  out  of  Delhi 
and  were  trying  to  reach  Meerut.  They  had  been  in 
hiding  all  day  and  were  commencing  their  march  about 
sundown,  and  in  keeping  away  from  the  main  roads  they 
came  upon  a Sadhu  in  the  jungle.  This  man,  seeing  their 
distress,  for  they  had  been  on  the  tramp  for  seven  days, 
took  pity  on  them  and  refreshed  them  with  what  food  he 
had.  They  had  not  been  with  him  long  when  a party 
of  the  mutineers’  cavalry  discovered  them,  rode  up  and 
commanded  the  Sadhu  to  give  up  his  visitors,  which  he 
refused  to  do,  so  the  mutineers  said  that  they  would  take 
them  without  his  leave.  The  Sadhu  had  put  his  visitors 
in  his  hut  and  sanctuary,  and  dared  the  soldiers  to  enter 
under  the  penalty  of  dire  punishment  which  would  follow 
his  curses.  The  mutineers  feared  to  disobey  the  Sadhu, 
so  the  party  of  British  fugitives  were  saved.  The  old 
lady  told  me  that  in  gratitude  to  that  gallant  Sadhu  she 
always  had  a warm  corner  in  her  heart  for  this  class  of 
holy  men,  and  never  refused  alms  to  those  who  asked 
help  from  her. 

Most  of  the  Sadhus  that  we  see  in  Kashmir  are  those 
who  come  from  India  in  the  summer-time,  whereas  the 
Kashmiri  Sadhus  generally  sit  under  a tree,  or  some  spot 
considered  to  be  holy,  and  are  visited  by  their  devotees, 
to  whom  they  give  ghostly  advice.  Schoolboys  visit 
them  before  going  in  for  public  examinations  to  seek 
their  aid  in  passing.  To  some  they  promise  success  for 
so  much  money  paid  in  advance ; to  others  they  promise 
success  if  they  will  walk  round  some  sacred  spot  a certain 
number  of  times  or  visit  the  goddess  of  learning  at  her 
shrine,  w:hich  is  some  ten  miles  from  Srinagar.  You  can 
see  quite  a number  of  students  turning  their  feet  that 

*49 


Brahmans  Sadhus 

way.  As  a matter  of  fact,  it  is  really  good  advice,  as 
the  examinees  read  their  books  continually  all  day  and 
through  a great  part  of  the  night.  In  order  to  keep 
themselves  awake  they  tie  their  top-knots  to  a nail  in  the 
wall,  so  that  their  nodding  heads  may  be  kept  in  order. 
So  the  advice  to  go  on  a twenty-mile  walk  is  really 
excellent,  though  the  Sadhus  are  not  aware  of  their 
wisdom  in  that  respect. 

One  boy  was  absolutely  worn  out  before  the  examina- 
tion, as  the  Sadhu  had  ordered  him  to  walk  round  the 
Hari  Parbat  hill  three  times  during  the  night.  The 
journey  in  the  day-time  would  not  be  of  any  benefit  to 
him ; it  must  be  every  night  for  seven  nights  in  succession. 
He  was  in  consequence  ploughed  and  very  miserable,  for, 
as  he  said,  he  had  paid  the  Sadhu  many  rupees,  which 
the  Sadhu  would  not  return. 

The  faith  that  these  people  have  in  their  holy  men 
is  astonishing,  considering  the  number  of  times  they  are 
fooled  and  swindled  by  them.  We  will  now  leave  the 
holy  men  sitting  under  trees  and  thinking  of  God  and 
return  for  a last  look  at  the  people  in  the  bazaars. 
Hitherto  I have  spoken  chiefly  of  the  men,  because  it  is 
chiefly  men  that  you  meet  in  the  bazaars.  The  upper- 
class  women  never  leave  their  houses  except  after  dark, 
with  the  exception  of  the  few  who  for  certain  urgent 
reasons  are  obliged  to  leave  their  houses,  when  they  will 
wear  a “burka.”  It  is  a white  cotton  cape  which  reaches 
from  the  top  of  the  head  to  the  feet.  There  is  a sort  of 
trellis  window,  about  four  inches  square,  made  of  coloured 
cord,  through  which  they  see  the  world.  Women 
whose  business  in  the  street  prevents  their  covering 
themselves  up  in  this  way  will,  when  you  pass,  cover 
their  faces  with  the  shawl  that  every  woman  has  on  her 
head,  and  will  generally  turn  their  faces  to  the  wall. 

150 


Brahmans  Sadhus 

They  have  been  taught  always  to  get  out  of  the  way  to 
make  room  for  men.  It  is  of  continual  interest  to  me 
to  read  the  character  of  the  men  in  this  matter.  Few 
men  will  make  way  for  a woman,  but  will  always  make 
room  for  the  swaggering  Brahmani  bull  and  the  cow, 
and  more  often  than  not  for  the  pariah  dog,  for  the 
former  have  horns  and  the  latter  sharp  teeth.  The  man 
with  the  proud  look  and  high  stomach  carries  all  before 
him,  until  he  meets  a man  who  has  a higher  stomach 
than  his  own  or  the  Brahmani  bull. 

A friend  of  mine,  a subaltern  of  small  stature,  was 
crossing  one  of  the  bridges,  keeping  the  centre  of  the 
road.  An  Afghan  who  was  of  great  stature  was 
also  crossing  the  bridge  in  the  opposite  direction ; he 
also  had  chosen  the  centre  of  the  road.  Neither  of 
them  would  give  way  to  the  other,  so  their  bodies  met. 
Before  the  subaltern  could  wink  he  found  himself 
under  the  great  arm  of  the  Afghan,  who  continued 
his  triumphant  march  down  the  centre  of  the  bridge, 
carrying  the  subaltern’s  legs  to  the  fore  and  head  to 
the  stern,  until  he  reached  the  end  of  the  bridge,  and 
then  deposited  him  right  side  up  in  the  street.  What 
did  the  subaltern  do  next  ? is  the  natural  question. 
Well,  he  did  the  only  thing  to  be  done  under  the 
circumstance,  considering  their  relative  sizes  and  strength  : 
he  took  it  in  good  part,  as  if  he  had  quite  enjoyed  his 
ride. 

Srinagar  is  an  interesting  city  from  a human  point  of 
view.  I enjoy  the  people  and  their  humour,  as  I hate 
the  filth  and  stench  of  their  streets. 

There  is  hope  for  improvement,  as  of  late  there  have 
come  into  the  municipality  some  keen  and  intelligent 
citizens  who  want  to  get  a move  on,  and  are  backing  up 
the  President  in  his  arduous  duties  in  fighting  prejudice, 


Brahmans  SP  Sadhus 

custom  and  dishonesty;  but  at  present  it  is  like  driving 
a coach  and  four  with  brakes  on  all  four  wheels  and 
only  one  of  the  four  horses  wishing  to  pull.  This  is 
better  than  it  used  to  be,  for  then  the  driver  himself  did 
not  wish  the  coach  to  move.  So  we  live  in  hope. 


152 


CHAPTER  XIII 


HINDU  CUSTOMS 

A FEW  weeks  before  delivery  the  woman  with 
child  is  sent  to  the  husband’s  house  with  a few 
pots  full  of  curd,  which  is  distributed  among 
the  husband’s  relatives.  The  woman  is  given  new 
clothes  by  her  father  on  this  occasion. 

On  the  sixth  day  after  delivery  the  patient  has  a warm 
bath,  the  water  being  mixed  with  certain  drugs  having 
medicinal  quality,  and  her  mother’s  relatives  pay  her 
visits. 

During  the  first  eleven  days  the  visitors  are  not  allowed 
to  eat  or  drink  in  the  house,  with  the  exception  of  the 
very  near  relatives,  as  the  house  is  considered  infectious 
and  unclean.  On  the  eleventh  day  the  patient  puts  on 
new  clothes,  made  for  her  by  her  husband.  The  new- 
born babe  is  given  its  name  and  a ceremony  is  performed. 
The  priest  brings  his  horoscope  and  receives  a good  tip 
if  it  is  a male  child.  The  horoscope  is  a scroll  of  paper 
showing  the  planets  that  are  favourable  or  unfavourable 
to  the  baby. 

The  oldest  woman  of  the  household  procures  a few 
pieces  of  birch  bark.  She  rolls  them  up  and  then 
assembles  the  family  members  together.  The  pieces  are 
then  burnt,  and  the  burning  pieces  are  revolved  several 
times  round  the  head  of  each  member  in  turn,  while  the 
old  lady  keeps  on  reciting  the  verse : “ This  is  a good 
omen,  may  it  recur.” 

For  the  shaving  of  the  head  of  the  child  no  definite 

i53 


Hindu  Customs 

time  is  fixed.  The  relatives  are  invited  to  a feast.  The 
family  priest  also  receives  his  dues.  New  clothes  are 
made  for  the  mother,  the  child  and  the  nearest  relatives. 
Even  the  barber  receives  his  share. 

The  Thread  Ceremony. — Some  days,  not  exceeding  two 
weeks,  before  the  day  fixed  for  the  ceremony  the  whole 
house  is  cleaned  and  white-washed.  It  is  called  Gher- 
Navii.  After  this  ceremony  the  women  go  round  to 
invite  their  relatives  and  receive  money  as  a good  omen. 
They  hold  regular  nightly  concerts,  sometimes  lasting  for 
the  whole  night. 

Henna  Ceremony. — This  takes  place  two  days  before  the 
thread  ceremony.  On  this  day  the  hands  of  the  boy  and 
his  women  relatives  are  dyed  red.  The  aunt  receives  a 
tip  for  performing  the  office. 

One  day  before  the  chief  ceremony  of  the  Holy 
Thread  the  male  relatives,  neighbours  and  friends  are 
invited ; each  man  pays  the  host  an  eight-anna  piece  or 
a rupee  as  a good  omen.  On  this  occasion,  generally,  a 
lamb  is  sacrificed  to  the  gods. 

On  this  day  women  sing  day  and  night  without 
stopping.  Generally  they  divide  themselves  into  parties 
and  sing  by  turns.  They  are  given  sumptuous  feasts. 
The  whole  arrangement  is  in  the  hands  of  women.  The 
aunt  plays  the  most  important  part  during  the  day.  An 
altar  is  erected — the  priests  chant  vedas,  and  incense  is 
burnt  regularly.  At  nightfall  the  boy  is  taken  to  the 
river  bank  to  perform  certain  ceremonies.  While  he  is 
away,  his  mother,  aunt  and  other  female  relatives  dance 
in  a circle  in  the  compound,  for  each  revolution  the 
female  spectators  have  to  pay  one  pice  or  more  according 
to  their  financial  condition.  In  this  way  the  twice-born 
receives  his  second  birth.  This  ceremony  is  usually 
performed  before  the  eleventh  year  of  the  boy’s  age. 

i54 


Hindu  Customs 

Marriages  are  arranged  by  middlemen,  who  are  first- 
class  liars.  The  house  is  white-washed,  as  in  the  case  of 
the  thread  ceremony.  This  also  is  divided  into  three 
chief  days — henna  ceremony  and  devagun  and  the 
wedding  ceremony.  Women  do  the  work,  as  in  the  former 
ceremony.  The  chief  day  is  called  lugan  (marriage). 
The  wedding  procession  goes  to  the  bride’s  house. 
Again  an  altar  is  erected,  and  incense  is  kept  burning. 
The  priests  chant  vedas.  The  husband  and  the  wife  are 
made  to  swear  to  hold  each  other  as  one  body  and  one 
soul.  Through  mantras  their  bodies  and  souls  are  united. 
They  are  never  to  separate,  neither  in  this  world  nor  in 
the  next.  The  woman  is  called  urdangi  (half  body — left 
side  of  the  man).  After  the  marriage  is  over  the  wedding- 
party  is  given  a feast,  vegetable  food  only  being  served ; 
then  they  leave  the  house  with  the  bride.  When  they 
reach  the  bridegroom’s  house  the  doors  are  closed  against 
them  by  the  bridegroom’s  sister,  and  are  not  opened  until 
she  is  promised  some  present  in  cash  or  kind.  In  the 
evening  both  the  bride  and  the  bridegroom  are  summoned 
by  the  bride’s  father.  The  bridegroom  is  given  some 
rupees,  and  then  the  married  couple  are  sent  back  on  the 
same  night.  The  bride  spends  a few  days,  not  exceeding 
a week,  in  her  husband’s  house,  and  then  returns  to  her 
father  and  spends  some  time  there  also.  Every  time  the 
father  wishes  to  see  his  daughter  he  has  to  pay  some  cash. 

If  both  the  bride  and  the  bridegroom  are  of  adult  age 
they  live  as  husband  and  wife,  if  not,  the  bride  wears  a 
gold-embroidered  cap  and  sleeps  in  a separate  room  till 
they  attain  majority.  On  that  occasion  another  ceremony 
is  performed,  without  the  priest.  This  is  called  “ zuge,”  or 
marriage  proper.  On  this  occasion  also  the  bride’s  father 
has  to  invite  his  son-in-law  to  his  house  and  spend  a good 
deal  of  money  on  feasts. 


05 


Hindu  Customs 

Till  the  death  of  the  husband’s  parents  the  couple  are 
not  allowed  to  speak  in  public  with  each  other,  or  at  least 
till  they  have  children. 

The  wife  has  to  obey  implicitly  the  behests  of  her 
mother-in-law  or  her  sister-in-law,  if  the  latter  happens 
to  be  older  than  her  husband.  She  has  to  rise  early, 
and  in  case  of  poverty  clean  the  house,  fetch  water, 
cook  food  and  do  sundry  other  things.  Wives  are, 
generally  speaking,  affectionate  and  devoted  to  their 
hnsbands. 

Children  are  generally  subservient  to  the  will  of  their 
elders.  But  Western  education  has  not  left  the  child- 
world  without  the  touch  of  its  magic  wand.  They  too 
want  to  be  freer;  and  as  most  of  their  parents  are 
ignorant  it  has  been  rendered  difficult  for  them  to  control 
their  children. 

The  ceremonies  performed  at  the  time  of  death  of  a 
Hindu  are  as  follows: — The  body  is  washed  with  warm 
water  and  wrapped  in  a piece  of  new  cloth.  A little 
ceremony  is  performed  outside  the  house.  The  son  or 
the  brother  or  the  nearest  relative  has  to  attend  this 
ceremony.  When  it  is  over  the  body  is  placed  on  a 
plank  and  carried  to  the  cremating  ground.  The  men  that 
accompany  it  continue  chanting  : “ Sheo,  Sheo  Shamboo,” 
etc.  (“  O God  of  Peace,  forgive  our  sins”).  After  the 
body  is  removed  the  priest  covers  a small  piece  of  ground 
inside  the  house  with  flour  and  places  a basket  over  it  with 
a lamp  kept  burning  inside.  He  pretends  to  discover  what 
body  the  soul  has  been  changed  into  by  reading  the 
impression  made  on  the  flour.  The  body  is  then  burnt  in 
a peculiar  way.  The  men  come  back,  wash  themselves 
in  the  river,  burn  a little  fire  on  the  river  bank,  turn  round 
it  seven  times  and  then  go  to  their  houses.  On  the 
third  day  the  son  of  the  deceased  visits  the  ashes  of  his 

1 56 


Hindu  Customs 

father  and  brings  a few  bones,  called  “ flowers,”  which 
are  kept  in  the  house  till  they  are  thrown  into  the 
Ganges,  or  a lake  at  Gangabal  which  is  supposed  to 
possess  the  same  merit  as  the  Ganges  (Ganga  = Ganges). 

When  the  body  of  a deceased  Hindu  is  carried  to  the 
cremating  ground  it  is  laid  down  in  a corner,  while  certain 
elaborate  ceremonies  are  performed,  which  may  be  very 
briefly  stated  here. 

First  three  separate  sites  are  selected,  on  which  lamps 
called  kulushas  are  placed.  At  this  place  eight  Barous 
are  invoked  and  propitiated  through  different  mantras. 
These  Barous  are  the  attendants  of  the  god  Rudra,  the 
master  of  death.  Chit  Shakti,  the  all-permeating  vital 
force  of  the  universe,  forms  the  ninth  Barou.  Apart  from 
this,  two  fires  are  burnt ; the  one  is  called  “ Vedic  ” and 
the  other  “ Shavic  Agni  Sadhan.”  In  these  fires  libations 
are  offered  to  all  gods  and  the  Nirvana  (absolute  calm)  of 
the  deceased  worked  out. 

Then  a separate  site  is  chosen  at  some  distance  from 
these  fires.  It  is  white-washed,  and  on  it  the  plan  of 
an  altar  is  drawn.  This  place  is  enclosed  with  coloured 
threads  fastened  to  pegs  fixed  in  the  four  corners  of  the 
place.  Within  this  enclosed  area  lamps  are  kept  burning, 
and  through  the  efficiency  of  the  mantras  the  departed 
souls  of  the  ancestors  are  invoked.  Then  a funeral  pyre 
is  constructed ; the  body  is  placed  on  it  with  its  head 
towards  the  south,  because  it  is  believed  that  Petra-Loka, 
the  abode  of  ancestors,  lies  in  that  direction. 

The  eldest  son  or  the  nearest  relative  sets  fire  to  the 
pile  of  wood.  It  is  believed  that  till  then  the  ghost  of 
the  deceased  hovers  round  his  mortal  remains  and  mourns 
for  those  whom  he  has  left  behind.  To  rouse  dispassion 
in  him,  the  son  to  whom  he  was  greatly  attached  in  this 
world  is  asked  to  set  fire  to  his  deceased  father’s  body. 

*57 


Hindu  Customs 

When  the  body  is  reduced  to  ashes  the  mourners  leave 
the  place  and  return  home. 

If  the  deceased  be  an  old  person,  professional  mourners, 
like  those  in  Persia,  are  employed.  The  mourners  are 
generally  women.  Early  in  the  morning,  while  the  male 
relatives  (especially  the  eldest  son)  are  engaged  in  per- 
forming religious  ceremonies,  all  the  female  relatives 
assemble  in  a room  and,  headed  by  the  professional 
mourner,  sing  funereal  songs.  This  is  continued  for  the 
first  ten  days,  and  is  called  “ Van.” 

For  the  next  ten  days,  if  the  deceased  be  an  old 
person,  ceremonies  are  performed  on  the  river  bank, 
water  is  sprinkled  and  balls  of  rice  offered.  In  the 
evening  the  priest  reads  a portion  of  a book  containing 
a description  of  purgatory,  heaven  and  hell  and  the  state 
of  the  departed  souls  in  the  next  world  before  their 
reincarnation.  On  the  tenth  day  the  sons  have  to  shave 
their  beards. 

On  the  eleventh  day,  through  the  efficacy  of  the 
mantras,  the  soul  of  the  deceased  is  translated  to  the 
world  of  ancestors — until  then  it  is  supposed  to  wander 
about. 

On  the  twelvth  day  a special  ceremony  is  performed 
to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  the  spirit  thus  departed  for 
its  earthly  attachments. 

On  the  thirteenth  day  mourners  shave  themselves  and 
put  on  new,  or  at  least  clean,  clothes.  During  the  mourn- 
ing days — i.e.  the  first  twelve  days — no  one  who  is  not 
a near  relative  can  eat  or  drink  in  the  house  of  the 
mourner,  for  it  is  thought  to  be  infectious  (honch). 

After  this,  fortnightly,  then  monthly,  and,  after  the 
first  year,  yearly  ceremonies  are  performed.  On  these 
occasions  the  presence  of  the  son,  the  performer  of  the 
sharada,  is  essential,  water  is  sprinkled  in  a peculiar  way 

i $8 


Hindu  Customs 

in  the  name  of  the  deceased,  and  balls  of  rice  offered,  and 
a small  fire  is  kindled  in  the  middle  of  the  house. 

There  are  two  distinct  theories  held  about  trans- 
migration : 

1.  It  is  believed  that  the  soul  is  given  another  body, 
human,  animal  or  vegetable,  the  moment  it  leaves  the 
previous  body.  This  is  controlled  by  the  law  of  Karma — 
i.e.  according  as  the  actions  of  the  deceased  during  life 
have  been  good  or  evil. 

2.  The  soul  is  translated  to  the  world  of  spirits  for 
purification.  There  it  is  given  an  astral  body  and  allowed 
to  stay  for  some  time,  and  then  it  is  allowed  to  soar  to 
higher  and  finer  spheres,  according  to  its  moral  worth. 

Peculiar  Customs. — If  anyone  leaves  his  house  first 
thing  in  the  morning  and  an  old,  ugly  woman,  or  a one- 
eyed  person,  or  a dog  or  donkey  happen  to  come  from 
the  opposite  direction,  the  unfortunate  person  will  have 
either  to  retrace  his  steps  or  pass  the  time  in  great 
anxiety,  fearing  some  misfortune.  Educated  men  pay  no 
attention  to  this  nonsense,  or  pretend  that  they  do  not. 

Pund  or  Sneeze.  — Superstitious  persons  will  never 
begin  to  do  anything  if  someone  sneezes.  Rogues  some- 
times sneeze  on  purpose,  in  order  to  annoy  others. 
They  quietly  put  a straw  into  their  noses  and  sneeze. 

Crows,  owls  and  kites  are  ominous  birds,  while  bulbuls, 
swallows  and  hoopoes  are  considered  fortunate.  The 
bulbul  is  considered  to  be  the  messenger  bird  ; its  chirp 
is  supposed  to  foretell  some  guest. 

When  a person  falls  seriously  ill  the  patient’s  relatives 
take  a vow  to  offer  a sacrifice,  and  a fat  lamb  is  brought 
before  the  priest,  who  lays  the  sins  of  the  patient  on  it. 
It  is  then  either  killed  or  set  free  in  some  forest.  The 
latter  is  very  rare,  though  preferred  to  the  former.  This 
sacrifice  is  called  “ Raja  Kat.” 

*59 


Hindu  Customs 

Small-pox  is  believed  to  be  inflicted  by  a goddess  called 
Shetala.  When  it  occurs  in  its  horrible  form  the  mother 
takes  a vow  to  present  a she-goat  or  a she-ass  to  pro- 
pitiate the  goddess,  but  this  belief  is  dying  out  among 
the  educated  classes,  who  now  accept  vaccination.  The 
poor  goddess  is  thus  defeated  and  cast  off. 

The  Hindus  keep  fast  on  the  day  that  an  eclipse  is 
to  take  place.  During  the  time  of  an  eclipse  they  per- 
form sharadas,  and  give  away  rice  and  money  in  charity. 
The  women  with  child  are  not  allowed  to  go  out  or  do 
any  work.  It  is  supposed  that  if  they  do  any  work 
during  that  time  the  child  in  the  womb  will  bear  those 
marks  on  its  body.  The  men  generally  spend  that  time 
in  worship  if  they  are  free.  No  food  that  is  cooked 
before  the  eclipse  is  used  afterwards,  because  it  is  be- 
lieved that  unwholesome  atoms  emanate  from  the  discs 
of  the  sun  and  the  moon  at  the  time  of  an  eclipse. 

Two  different  theories  are  held  regarding  the  eclipse  : 

1.  That  Rahu,  or  Kitu,  two  celestial  giants  (stars), 
endeavour  to  eat  up  the  sun  or  the  moon  that  is 
eclipsed. 

2.  It  is  a mere  shadow  (Chahya  mater). 

The  second  belief  is  held  by  the  Sanskrit-knowing 
persons;  the  first  by  those  who  believe  in  tradition  or 
folklore  only. 

In  the  centre  of  the  Tehsil  of  Nagam  (old  Nagrama) 
there  lies  an  alluvial  plateau  known  as  Damudhar  Udar, 
where  an  ancient  popular  tradition  surviving  to  the 
present  day  has  preserved  the  legend  of  King  Damudhar. 
The  King  built  a town  on  the  Udar.  In  order  to  bring 
water  to  it  he  had  a great  dam,  called  Guddasten,  con- 
structed by  supernatural  agency.  One  day  when  the 
King  was  going  to  bathe  he  was  met  by  some  hungry 
Brahmans  who  asked  him  for  food.  The  King  refused 

160 


Photo  by] 


A Brahman  Marriage. 


' A’.  E.  Shorter 


The  bridegroom,  aged  14,  stands  in  the  centre,  priests  are  sitting  in  front.  Pictures 
of  various  gods  and  goddesses  lie  on  the  ground. 


Women  at  the  Mill  and  Spinning  Wheel. 


rhoto  by)  One  of  the  Three  Glaciers  at  Sona  Marg.  [tf-  Shorter. 

Son  a Maiu,  “The  meadow  of  gold  " oucc  the  hill  station  of  Srinagar  is  io,ooo  feet  above  sea  level*  surrounded  by  peaks,  of  i8,qqq  fgett 


Hindu  Customs 

to  comply  with  their  request  until  he  had  taken  his  bath. 
The  Brahmans,  therefore,  cursed  him  so  that  he  became 
a snake.  Ever  since  the  unfortunate  King  is  seen  by  the 
people  in  the  form  of  a snake  rushing  about  in  search  of 
water  far  and  wide.  He  is  not  to  be  delivered  from  the 
curse  until  he  hears  the  whole  Ramayana  recited  to  him 
in  a single  day.  As  this  cannot  be  done,  it  renders  his 
release  hopeless.  It  is  said  that  several  Brahmans  have 
attempted  to  help  the  King  in  this  way,  but  their  exertions 
have  always  failed.  The  main  features  of  this  legend  are 
well  known  throughout  Kashmir.  The  inhabitants  of  the 
neighbouring  villages  point  to  a spot  on  the  Udar,  known 
as  Satras  Teng,  as  the  site  of  Damudhar’s  palace. 

Mohammedan  Customs. — Marriages  are  generally  arranged 
by  a middleman,  who  appoints  a day  for  nishani  (engage- 
ment). On  this  day  henna  and  some  gold  and  silver  orna- 
ments are  sent  to  the  bride  through  the  middleman.  The 
bride’s  father  gives  a feast  to  the  bridegroom’s  father  and 
his  party.  On  this  day  nikah,  or  the  marriage  contract,  is 
drawn  up  and  the  mahra  is  fixed.  The  deed  cannot  be 
drawn  up  without  the  consent  of  both  the  bride  and  the 
bridegroom.  They  are  therefore  generally  represented  by 
some  of  their  near  relatives.  The  bridegroom’s  father  has 
to  pay  the  Qazi  (ecclesiastical  scribe),  the  mosque,  the  police, 
and  various  other  people.  On  the  following  day  the  bride’s 
father  sends  loaves  and  dressed  meat  to  the  bridegroom’s 
father  as  a recompense  for  the  trouble  in  paying  him  a visit. 
Some  time  after  this  engagement  the  marriage  takes  place. 
It  lasts  for  three  days  in  case  of  the  son,  and  for  two  days 
in  case  of  the  daughter.  Henna  bandi  is  the  first  day. 
Feasts  are  given  by  both  the  parties  to  their  friends  and 
relatives.  Henna  and  ornaments  are  sent  to  the  bride. 
On  that  occasion  all  the  women  that  have  been  called  to 
the  feast  stain  their  hands  and  feet  with  henna.  Merry 
l 161 


Hindu  Customs 

concerts  are  held  by  women  day  and  night.  Next  comes 
the  wedding  (enivoal).  A feast  is  given  to  the  bride- 
groom and  his  party  by  the  bride’s  father.  The  marriage 
procession  starts  in  the  evening  towards  the  bride’s 
house;  the  procession  is  accompanied  by  torch-bearers, 
the  torches  being  of  several  kinds.  The  low-class  people 
and  the  boatmen  march  in  a procession  through  almost 
all  the  streets  and  the  chief  markets  of  the  city  during 
the  day.  They  are  accompanied  by  a Kashmiri  band, 
the  loud  noise  of  which  seems  to  proclaim  that  the  son  of 
a grandee  is  to  be  married. 

In  the  house  of  the  bride  a special  hall  is  put  in  order. 
It  is  tastefully  carpeted  and  dotted  about  with  cushions. 
For  the  bridegroom  a masnand,  or  elevated  seat,  is 
arranged.  The  priest  who  is  to  tie  the  nuptial  knot 
takes  his  seat  in  front  of  the  bridegroom.  The  Qazi 
indites  the  marriage  contract  and  settles  the  mahra 
(jointure)  upon  the  girl.  After  this  a sort  of  nuptial 
prayer  is  offered.  This  prayer  contains  praises  of  Allah 
and  Mohammed.  The  Qazi  subsequently  addresses 
himself  to  the  representatives  of  the  bride  and  the 
bridegroom,  and  asks  them  whether  they  have  accepted 
each  other  as  husband  and  wife.  On  this  occasion  the 
bridegroom  is  presented  with  a gift  of  clothes  by  the 
bride’s  father.  Then  handfuls  of  sugar  are  either  distri- 
buted or  throwm  on  the  floor,  to  be  picked  up  by  the  men 
present. 

On  this  point  the  Mohammedan  community  in  Kashmir 
are  divided.  Some  say  that  this  sugar  ought  to  be 
divided,  while  others  hold  that  it  ought  to  be  scattered. 
This  divergence  of  opinion  has  lately  caused  a great 
schism  among  the  Kashmiri  Mohammedans. 

The  bride  stays  in  the  house  of  the  bridegroom  for 
seven  days.  During  this  time  the  bride’s  father  has  to 

162 


Hindu  Customs 

send  various  dishes  and  suits  of  clothes  to  the  bride- 
groom’s father.  On  the  third  day  of  the  marriage  dry 
tea,  sugar  and  cakes  are  sent  to  the  bridegroom.  These 
are  distributed  amongst  the  bridegroom’s  friends  and 
relatives.  Dressed  meat  and  cakes  are  again  sent  to 
him  on  the  fifth  day.  These  are  also  similarly  dealt 
with.  On  the  seventh  day  a large  quantity  of  dressed 
meat  and  specially  prepared  sweet  cakes  are  sent  to  the 
bridegroom’s  father.  Various  garments  are  sent  to  him 
for  the  use  of  the  bride.  Besides  this  a number  of  fowls 
proportionate  to  the  number  of  the  sisters  of  the  bride- 
groom is  sent  to  his  house.  This  is  very  important,  and 
upon  this  depends  chiefly  the  future  happiness  of  the  girl. 
In  default  of  the  performance  of  this  function,  the  poor 
girl  is  given  a bad  time,  and  is  looked  down  upon  as  a 
shrew  and  called  by  various  ugly  names.  The  bride- 
groom also  receives  a bakshish,  generally  in  the  shape 
of  a fine  shawl. 

When  a person  is  near  the  point  of  death  his  relatives 
and  all  those  who  are  present  begin  to  recite  the  Kalima, 
and  if  possible  the  dying  man  too  is  made  to  recite  the 
same.  Immediately  after  the  person’s  death  his  eyes  and 
mouth  are  closed.  His  relatives  fetch  a big  plank  from 
the  nearest  mosque  and  place  the  body  on  it,  with  the 
face  turned  towards  the  sky.  The  body  is  then  washed 
with  warm  water.  A hole  is  dug  inside  the  house,  so 
that  the  water  w'ith  w'hich  the  body  is  washed  may  not 
run  in  all  directions,  but  collect  in  the  same  hole.  The 
body  is  w-ashed  by  a professional  washer  called  Ghusal. 
Meanwhile  the  shroud  is  made  ready.  It  consists  of 
three  things — the  Lafafa , the  Azar  and  the  Katniz. 
The  first  two  are  merely  two  sheets  of  cloth,  w^hile  the 
third  is  a long  shirt  with  a rent  in  the  middle.  The  body 
is  wrrapped  in  these  things.  Then  scents  are  sprinkled 

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Hindu  Customs 

over  the  body,  and  it  is  placed  in  a coffin  brought  from 
the  mosque.  Another  piece  of  cloth  is  spread  over  the 
coffin,  and  it  is  surmounted  with  a curtain  taken  from 
some  ziarat.  The  bier  is  then  carried  on  the  shoulders, 
and  those  who  accompany  it  keep  on  reciting  the  Kalima. 
The  bier  is  then  laid  in  front  of  some  ziarat,  with  the 
head  of  the  deceased  turned  towards  the  north,  and  the 
people  perform  ablutions  and  offer  a prayer  which  consists 
of  four  parts.  The  first  part  contains  a reference  to  the 
holiness  of  God ; the  Glorification  and  praise  of  His 
attributes;  the  second  part  contains  the  benediction  on 
the  Prophet ; the  third  part  is  an  appeal  for  the  for- 
giveness of  the  sins  of  the  deceased ; and  the  fourth  is 
a salutation  to  all  present.  This  prayer  is  concluded 
by  the  Tabkir  (Alluha-Akbar).  The  corpse  is  then 
taken  to  the  graveyard  and  placed  close  to  the  grave. 
The  topmost  sheet  is  then  removed,  which  is  given  to 
the  sexton.  The  corpse  is  lowered  into  the  grave  with 
its  head  turned  towards  the  Kaaba.  The  grave  is  then 
filled  up  and  the  coffin  returned  to  the  mosque. 

Up  to  the  first  Friday  after  the  burial  the  relatives 
and  friends  of  the  deceased  go  to  the  graveyard  early 
in  the  morning  every  day  and  recite  a few  verses  of  the 
Quran.  They  then  wend  their  way  to  the  house  of  the 
departed  person  and  are  served  with  light  refreshments,  in 
the  shape  of  tea  and  cakes.  The  priest  plays  an  important 
part  in  this  business,  and  receives  a handsome  remunera- 
tion. The  sexton  gets  a meal  a day,  and  gets  some  oil 
on  the  following  Friday.  All  the  relatives  and  friends 
again  visit  the  tomb  of  the  deceased,  while  to  the  son  or 
the  daughter  are  presented  gifts  of  muslin  and  cash  by 
their  relatives. 

The  Mohammedans  believe  that  after  the  dead  body 
has  been  deposited  in  the  grave  two  angels,  called  Nakir 

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Hindu  Customs 

and  Munkar,  come  to  him  and  ask  him  the  following 
questions : — 

1.  Who  is  your  God  ? 

2.  Who  is  your  Prophet? 

3.  What  is  your  Creed  ? 

If  he  replies  to  these  questions  satisfactorily,  and  says — 

1.  Allah  is  my  God. 

2.  Mohammed  is  my  Prophet. 

3.  Islam  is  my  Creed. 

— he  is  shown  divine  mercy  and  is  translated  to  heaven ; 
but  if  his  answers  are  unsatisfactory  the  wrath  of  God 
descends  upon  him  and  he  experiences  the  torture  of  hell 
and  eternal  perdition. 

The  Mohammedans  also  believe  that  there  is  on  the 
top  of  hell  a path  called  Surat.  It  is  narrower  than  the 
breadth  of  a hair  and  sharper  than  the  edge  of  a sword. 
Everyone  will  have  to  cross  it.  The  virtuous  will  cross 
it  with  great  ease,  but  the  sinners  will  be  hurled  into  the 
fires  of  hell. 

When  a man  wishes  to  get  rid  of  his  enemy  he  goes  to 
certain  Brahman  priests,  practitioners  of  the  “ black  art,” 
who  expect  to  be  paid  heavily  for  their  work. 

They  make  a figure  of  clay  or  wax  which  represents  the 
victim.  This  figure  they  pierce  with  a sword  or  nails  in 
that  part  of  the  body  where  the  client  wishes  his  enemy 
to  receive  the  mortal  wound.  This  art  is  done  in  private 
with  incantations,  and  afterwards  the  figure  is  burned. 

The  Rev.  T.  R.  Wade  in  his  diary  speaks  of  this 
ceremony  having  been  performed  by  certain  people  in 
Kashmir  who  wished  to  rid  themselves  of  himself,  the 
Rev.  Robert  Clark  and  of  the  British  Resident.  Three 
fires  were  made  for  the  Resident,  two  for  Mr  Clark  and 
one  for  himself.  Notwithstanding,  all  three  survived  for 
many  years,  and  both  Mr  Wade  and  Mr  Clark  lived  to 

1 65 


Hindu  Customs 

a good  old  age.  Evidently  something  went  wrong  with 
the  incantations. 

On  the  other  hand,  I happen  to  know  of  a rich  and 
powerful  man  in  the  country  who  wished  to  bring  about 
the  death  of  a more  powerful  and  richer  man  by  this 
means,  and  certainly  this  more  powerful  man  did  die 
with  a pain  in  his  stomach  not  long  after,  so  I expect 
the  Brahman  priests  congratulated  themselves  on  their 
success,  or,  at  any  rate,  in  having  raked  in  a good  haul 
of  rupees. 

I also  happen  to  know  of  a somewhat  similar  instance. 

A certain  great  man  wished  that  his  son  might  possess 
a certain  great  inheritance,  but  someone  else’s  son  stood 
in  his  way,  so  he  approached  certain  priests  for  help. 
They  told  him  that  he  must  bring  a certain  goddess  to 
his  country  and  place  her  in  his  temple,  whom  he  must 
worship  assiduously,  large  gifts  of  money,  of  course, 
forming  the  bulk  of  the  worship ; but  this  worship  would 
not  be  of  any  avail  unless  he  procured  the  shirt,  clippings 
of  hair  and  of  toe  and  finger  nails  of  the  young  man  who 
stood  in  the  way  and  placed  them  on  the  goddess. 

If  he  fulfilled  all  those  conditions  this  young  man 
would  most  certainly  die  in  the  month  of  November, 
three  months  hence. 

This  great  man  fulfilled  all  the  conditions.  The 
goddess  was  brought  to  his  temple  and  worshipped 
correctly.  She  wore  the  shirt,  hair,  and  finger  and  toe 
nails’  clippings,  and  much  money  no  doubt  changed 
hands. 

The  fatal  month  arrived,  and  the  angel  of  death  also 
arrived,  but  he  carried  off  the  worshipper  and  not  the 
would-be  victim,  w'ho  still  lives,  I am  glad  to  say.  I 
wonder  how  the  priests  explained  the  mistake  made  by 
the  Angel  of  Death  on  this  occasion. 


Hindu  Customs 

The  people  of  Kashmir  are  very  superstitious,  and  give 
themselves  much  searching  of  heart  and  trouble  in 
consequence. 

At  this  moment  as  I write  the  citizens  of  Srinagar 
are  in  terrible  distress  owing,  as  they  say,  to  the  visit 
of  a frightful  creature  which  no  one  has  seen.  It  is 
supposed  to  have  been  seen  by  many  people,  though  no 
one  will  own  to  having  actually  seen  it,  but  everyone  tells 
everybody  else  that  it  has  attacked  women  and  children, 
tearing  their  faces  and  their  breasts.  It  visits  the  houses 
at  night.  Some  say  it  comes  out  of  the  river,  and  others 
that  it  is  like  a great  cat.  Consequently  everyone  shuts 
tight  their  shutters  on  these  hot,  oppressive  nights,  and 
beats  tins  and  tom-toms  to  frighten  the  terrible  monster 
away.  Hence  there  is  not  much  chance  of  sleep  for 
those  who  believe  in  the  monster  or  who  make  the  noise, 
nor  for  those  who  do  not,  and  have  to  endure  the 
continual  din. 

Some  years  ago  a terrible  beast  was  supposed  to 
inhabit  the  river  one  summer.  The  schools  were  closed 
for  the  summer  vacation,  and  when  we  returned  to 
Srinagar  we  found  that  no  one  had  bathed  in  the  river 
for  a month  from  fear  of  this  beast,  so  I asked  the  boys 
if  they  would  like  to  kill  it.  They  answered  in  the 
affirmative,  so  I called  upon  them  to  meet  me  at  the 
Amira  Kadal  bridge  (the  first  bridge)  at  three  o’clock  to 
swim  right  through  the  city,  a distance  of  three  miles,  to 
the  seventh  bridge,  Safifa  Kadal,  so  that  this  terrible  beast 
might  burst  itself  with  swallowing  so  many  boys,  and 
thus  they  would  save  their  city. 

At  three  p.m.  punctually  130  boys  leaped  into  the 
river.  The  bridges  and  banks  and  roofs  of  the  houses 
were  crowded  with  people  to  see  what  would  happen. 

Of  course  nothing  did  happen,  and  next  day  the 

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Hindu  Customs 

city  was  washing  itself  once  more,  for  the  bogey  was 
slain.  Some  of  the  people  say  that  this  one  is  the  son 
of  the  last  one,  and  look  to  the  schoolboys  to  settle 
this  one  when  the  holidays  are  over  and  they  return 
to  Srinagar. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


BOAT-BUILDING 

THE  Kashmiris  have  their  own  special  way  of 
building  boats,  and  very  clever  they  are  at  their 
art.  I have  always  been  interested  in  boats  and 
boat-building,  but  I had  never  come  across  boats  built  as 
in  Kashmir.  I have  been  told  that  the  Kashmiri  boatmen 
date  their  knowledge  from  the  days  of  Noah,  and  when 
one  looks  at  their  big  rice  boats,  which  are  uncommonly 
like  the  Noah’s  Ark  of  one’s  childhood,  one  always 
expects  to  see  Noah  coming  out  of  the  door  of  the  cabin 
in  the  stern,  especially  when  it  happens  to  be  at  the 
time  of  the  floods,  when  all  the  Kashmir  valley  is  under 
water. 

When  I first  came  to  Kashmir  the  saw  was  practically 
unknown,  so  all  the  work  had  to  be  done  with  axes  and 
adzes.  The  boatmen  w'ould  go  off  to  the  deodar  forests 
and  select  a large  tree,  say  ioo  feet  high  and  from  3 to  4 
feet  in  diameter. 

When  felled  they  would  split  it  in  half  lengthways, 
and  out  of  these  two  halves  would  make  two  planks  only, 
by  axing  oft  all  the  wood  on  the  outside  until  these 
planks  were  of  the  requisite  thickness,  say  three  or  four 
inches  thick,  according  to  the  style  and  size  of  the  boat 
that  they  were  intending  to  build.  This  wicked  waste 

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Boat-Building 

of  valuable  cedar  wood  W'as  most  lamentable,  but  having 
no  saws,  this  was  their  only  way  of  securing  their 
planks. 

They  wrould  then  bore  a hole  at  each  end  of  their 
planks,  into  which  they  would  insert  short  ropes,  made  of 
hazel-nut  branches,  for  hauling  purposes.  These  planks 
might  have  to  be  hauled  for  several  miles  to  the  river. 

The  planks  used  to  be  left  in  the  river  or  lake  for  two 
or  three  years  to  season.  These  twro  long  planks  were 
to  form  the  sides  of  the  boat,  and  as  they  would  be 
about  seventy  feet  long,  they  would  be  almost  sufficient 
for  the  purpose.  Another  three  or  four  trees  might  be 
needed  for  flooring  and  finishing  off  the  boat. 

It  was,  of  course,  a great  score  for  the  owners  of  the 
boat  to  possess  hewn  planks  rather  than  sawn  timber,  for 
they  would  last  nearly  twice  as  long.  In  fact,  the  hulls 
of  boats  built  of  hewn  timber  are  said  to  be  good  for 
forty  years,  and  they  are  never  painted  or  tarred. 

In  these  days,  with  wood  at  the  price  it  is,  boats  are 
being  made  of  sawn  timber,  and  therefore  will  last  only 
half  the  time  of  the  old  boats  made  of  hewn  planks. 

The  builder,  having  hauled  his  planks  up  the  river, 
selects  a flat  piece  of  ground  on  which  to  build,  and  from 
which  he  can  launch  his  boat  without  danger  of  strain  to 
the  hull.  These  boats  are  made  without  keel,  without 
bow  or  stern  post,  without  ribs.  In  fact  they  are  built 
like  a box  or  coffin ; some  stays  which  do  service  for  ribs 
are  put  in  as  a sort  of  afterthought. 

Barges  called  bahhachas  and  kutchus  are  built  on  a 
different  plan  from  doongas,  the  ordinary  dwelling-boats, 
and  shikaras,  which  are  small  pleasure  boats, or  fishing  boats. 
The  floor  of  the  barges  is  made  in  three  pieces,  while 
the  flooring  of  doongas  and  shikaras  is  in  one  piece  only. 

Let  us  take  the  barge  (bahaz).  A flat  piece  of  ground 


Boat-Building 

having  been  selected,  four  or  five  logs  are  placed  in  a row 
to  form  a foundation  for  the  planks  which  are  to  be 
joined  together.  The  planks  are  now  laid  on  to  these 
beams,  one  plank  being  joined  to  the  other  by  iron 
staples  and  nails. 

The  staples  are  from  three  to  four  inches  wide,  to 
allow  of  a good  grip.  These  are  hammered  in  almost 
red-hot,  and  immediately  water  is  poured  on  them  to 
prevent  them  burning  the  wood ; when  they  cool  and 
contract  they  possess  a great  clinching  power.  These 
staples  are  placed  twelve  inches  or  so  apart  along  the 
seam.  Then  in  the  space  between  the  staples  holes  are 
bored  to  receive  a strong  curved  iron  nail.  This  is 
inserted  about  one  inch  and  a half  from  the  side  of  one 
plank,  and  when  driven  home  slanting  into  the  plank 
protrudes  about  the  same  distance  into  the  other  plank. 
This  nail  is  also  driven  home  red-hot  and  cold  water 
immediately  poured  on  to  it.  This  nail,  being  curved, 
has,  like  the  staple,  a powerful  grip. 

While  the  centre  flooring  is  being  put  together  other 
men  are  working  at  the  two  smaller  pieces  of  flooring 
which  are  to  be  fixed  on  at  both  ends  of  the  centre  piece 
to  make  the  bow  and  stern.  When  all  the  flooring  is 
ready,  then  the  great  planks  for  the  sides,  called  kinaras, 
are  brought.  They  have  already  been  cut  to  shape — i.e. 
from  three  to  four  feet  wide — until  they  approach  the 
bow  and  stern,  when  they  are  cut  from  the  under  side 
until  they  are  one  foot  in  width  in  the  stern  and  half- 
a-foot  in  the  bows. 

These  kinaras  are  now  placed  in  position  at  each  side 
of  the  platform,  and  clamped  to  the  flooring  in  the  same 
way  as  the  planks  have  been  joined  together,  with  staple 
and  bent  nail.  The  flooring  of  the  bow  and  the  stern 
has  to  be  raised  to  meet  the  kinaras,  thus  making  a gradual 

171 


Boat-Building 

sheer  from  the  deepest  part  of  the  hull  to  the  shallowest 
in  the  bow  and  stern. 

Now  in  order  to  make  this  great  box  (for  that  is 
what  it  really  is)  rigid  four  or  more  stays  are  placed  in 
position,  two  in  the  centre  of  the  boat  about  three  feet 
apart,  and  one  at  the  place  where  the  bow  and  stern 
pieces  join  the  centre  flooring.  These  stays  consist  of 
two  strong  beams,  one  placed  along  the  flooring  of  the 
boat  from  side  to  side,  the  other  parallel  wfith  it,  attached 
to  the  top  edge  of  the  sides;  then  these  tw'o  stays  are 
joined  up  to  each  other  by  three  uprights,  two  being  at 
the  sides  of  the  boat  and  the  third  in  the  centre. 

Now  caulkers  are  put  on  to  work,  and  they  caulk  all 
the  seams  with  tow,  and  very  clever  they  are  at  their  job. 
The  boat  is  now  ready  for  launching.  Beams  are  put  in 
position  from  the  logs  on  which  the  boat  was  built,  to 
the  water,  and  then  the  boat  is  hauled  down  sideways 
into  the  river. 

When  she  is  afloat  the  cabin  is  built  on  to  the  stern 
part,  and  a thatched  roof  is  added  to  about  three-quarters 
of  the  length  of  the  boat,  the  forepart  being  left  open 
to  permit  of  the  punters  doing  their  work.  And  there 
is  a craft  w'hich  has  a life  of  forty  years. 

When  it  becomes  rotten,  and  too  bad  for  patching, 
it  is  pulled  to  pieces  and  a smaller  boat  made  of  the 
good  planks,  and  when  that  boat  in  its  turn  becomes 
unseaworthy  it  also  is  pulled  to  pieces,  and  a still 
smaller  boat  made  of  the  remains,  until  finally  it  be- 
comes firewood,  and  probably  helps  to  heat  the  nails 
for  the  making  of  a brand-new  craft. 

I have  during  my  time  in  Kashmir  superintended  the 
building  of  some  fifty  boats  of  different  sorts,  from  a 
shikara  to  a house-boat,  and  from  a coracle  to  a twrelve- 
oared  man-of-war  cutter. 


172 


Boat-Building 

On  arrival  in  Kashmir  in  1891  I found  that  the 
European  community  had  a boat  club.  Colonel 
Sartorius,  V.C.,  who  was  secretary,  was  leaving  Kashmir, 
so  I was  asked  to  take  his  place  and  build  some  more 
rowing-boats.  Although  I knew  very  little  about  building 
boats,  I thought  I might  at  any  rate  learn,  so  with  the 
help  of  some  friends  who  did  know  how  to  build  boats  I 
superintended  the  work  of  carpenters  who  built  them. 
I remember  that  I turned  out  a pair-oared  skiff  at  the 
great  price  of  five  pounds,  and  that  the  paint  for  it  cost 
more  than  the  cedar  wood  of  which  it  was  made. 

I also  remember  that  I had  some  rather  peculiar  diffi- 
culties in  getting  the  work  done.  On  a certain  day  no 
carpenters  turned  up  to  work,  nor  for  the  next  few  days 
either.  Later  on  I ascertained  that  the  police  were  out 
seizing  carpenters  to  go  to  the  Gilgit  road  to  work  on 
a bridge  under  construction.  No  carpenter  would  go 
willingly,  as  the  Gilgit  road  had  its  terrors,  for  so  many 
Kashmiris  who  went  never  returned  to  their  homes 
again.  The  police  came  to  the  house  of  my  head  man 
to  seize  him,  but  he  managed  to  escape,  and  hid  in  one 
of  the  boats  in  the  Dal  Lake.  Then  the  police  seized 
his  wife  as  a hostage,  so  he,  being  a gallant  husband, 
went  to  the  rescue  of  his  w’ife,  when  he  w'as  caught ; 
but  after  a few  days  he  returned  to  my  work  with  the 
help  of  the  usual  palm  oil.  Also  he  was  a very  old  man, 
and  could  hardly  have  made  the  journey.  However,  I lost 
my  second  carpenter,  for  he  was  caught  and  driven  off  to 
the  Gilgit  road. 

Notwithstanding  this  and  various  interruptions  we  got 
through  with  our  work,  and  launched  three  pair-oared 
skiffs  and  a comfortable  family  boat  generally  known  as 
a randan. 

I was  not  satisfied  with  these  boats,  so  when  I went  to 

i73 


Boat-Building 

England  on  furlough  I had  a Thames  pair-oared  skiff 
built  at  Oxford,  with  a rather  higher  bow  and  stern  than 
the  Thames  boats,  as  I did  not  want  it  to  ship  seas  when 
on  the  Kashmir  lakes. 

I brought  this  boat  out  with  me  in  the  hope  that  many 
Europeans  would  have  boats  built  like  it,  and  we  should 
have  a fleet  of  smart  English  boats  on  our  Kashmir 
waters ; but  I was  to  suffer  disappointment,  for  instead 
of  anyone  asking  for  my  boat  as  a model  from  which 
their  carpenters  could  build,  they  said  : “ What  a delight- 
ful boat  you  have  got,  do  lend  it  to  me.”  In  that  skiff 
I brought  a section  of  an  eight-oared  boat,  as  it  was  one 
of  my  dreams  to  see  eight-oared  racing  boats  swinging 
along  on  the  beautiful  Kashmir  waters. 

During  my  holidays  in  the  pine  forests  I searched  for 
a tree  with  a stem  clear  of  branches  for  thirty  feet  from 
the  ground,  for  a racing  eight  is  sixty  feet  long,  and  I 
wanted  to  get  planks  clear  of  knots,  so  if  I could  obtain 
clean  planks  thirty  feet  long  I should  do  very  well.  It 
was  a very  long  search,  but  at  last  I found  such  a tree, 
and  a giant  of  the  forest  it  was.  I obtained  permission 
from  the  forest  officer  to  buy  it.  Trees  season  better 
standing  than  when  felled  and  left  lying  on  the  ground, 
so  I ringed  it,  and  left  it  standing  for  two  years,  and  then 
during  my  next  holiday  in  the  forest  I collected  wood- 
cutters and  sent  them  with  the  woodman  who  had 
sought  with  me  for  this  tree  of  thirty  feet  of  clean 
wood,  with  orders  to  cut  off  the  thirty-foot  log,  and  of 
the  rest  to  cut  it  up  in  lengths  of  twelve  feet  for 
making  into  oars.  I meant  to  have  followed  up  the 
woodcutters,  but  was  detained  for  some  time. 

Imagine  my  feelings  when  I arrived  at  the  fallen  tree 
to  find  that  they  had  cut  up  the  whole  tree  in  lengths 
of  twelve  feet.  The  woodman  must  have  had  a lapse  of 

*7+ 


Boat-Building 

memory,  or  something  of  the  kind,  for  we  had  tramped 
through  the  forest  on  so  many  occasions  together  in 
search  of  this  particular  tree ; then  he  had  ringed  this 
tree,  and  watched  it  drying  for  more  than  a year,  and 
now  when  the  time  had  come  to  secure  our  thirty-foot 
planks  for  our  sixty-foot  racing  craft  he  cuts  it  up  in 
lengths  of  twelve  feet  for  oars,  which  could  be  obtained 
almost  from  any  tree.  The  woodman  was  fortunately  a 
man  of  few  words  and  did  not  wish  to  argue  when  I 
explained  to  him  that  he  must  atone  for  his  grievous  sin 
by  finding  me  a suitable  tree  as  soon  as  possible,  fie 
stared  at  me  in  a sort  of  dazed  manner,  then  lifted  his 
pagri  and  scratched  his  head,  and  said : “ Follow  me, 
Sahib.”  I followed  him  down  the  valley,  and  there  he 
pointed  out  a tree  that  had  been  blown  down,  and  lo ! to 
my  astonishment  I found  a tree,  truly  about  half  the  girth 
of  the  other,  but  on  one  side  of  which  for  thirty  feet 
there  were  no  branches,  therefore  clear  of  knots,  which 
would  answer  my  purpose.  So  this  was  cut  and  made 
ready  for  sawyers.  These  men  had  to  be  brought  from 
Srinagar,  twenty  miles  away.  At  last  the  planks  were 
sawn  and  stowed  away  under  our  hut  to  season  for  two 
years. 

My  summer  holiday  of  five  weeks  arrived  again,  and  I 
intended  to  commence  right  away  with  the  building  of 
the  eight  in  the  forest,  but  a friend  of  mine  was  building 
a large  motor-boat  on  the  river  and  had  borrowed  my 
head  carpenter,  and  when  the  time  came  for  him  to  join 
me  in  the  forest  my  friend  begged  me  to  let  him  keep 
him  for  another  week,  as  he  could  not  finish  his  boat 
without  his  help,  and  then  when  that  week  was  up  he 
implored  me  to  spare  him  for  yet  another  week.  I was 
weak  enough  to  grant  his  request,  so  that  left  me  only 
three  weeks  in  which  to  build  the  boat, 

}75 


Boat-Building 

We  had  had  fine  weather  up  till  then.  The  weather 
then  changed,  and  it  rained  for  the  next  three  weeks,  and  as 
the  boat  had  to  be  built  in  the  open,  the  work  was  carried 
out  under  the  greatest  difficulties.  However,  the  boat 
was  built,  and  with  the  help  of  sixteen  men  it  was  carried 
through  the  forest  with  difficulty  and  down  to  the  river 
at  Srinagar,  twenty  miles  distant.  Before  long  my  dream 
was  realised  of  seeing  a racing  eight  swinging  along  on 
Kashmir  waters. 

Every  boat  has  a character  of  its  own,  which  has  to  be 
appreciated  and  honoured  if  you  want  to  get  the  best  out 
of  it. 

This  particular  boat  had  a greater  desire  than  all  the 
racing  eights  I had  ever  been  in,  and  that  was  not  a few, 
of  turning  the  whole  crew  overboard.  This  special  trait 
in  its  character  was  sometimes  annoying,  though  at  the 
same  time  decidedly  humorous. 

We  were  out  practising  on  the  lake  and  had  taken 
aboard  a passenger  lady  doctor.  She  sat  in  the  cox- 
swain’s seat  and  I stood  up  behind  to  coach  the  crew.  I 
was  teaching  them  how  to  stop  the  boat  suddenly  in  case 
of  a collision.  To  accomplish  this  without  upsetting  the 
boat  with  a rough  crew  is  not  easy.  I was  aware  of  this, 
so  I commenced  gently,  first  by  holding  up  the  boat 
when  there  was  a little  way  on  and  then  increasing  the 
speed  until  we  could  hold  her  up  hard  when  going  at 
top  speed.  We  had  accomplished  holding  her  up 
satisfactorily  at  all  the  preliminary  stages,  and  now  had 
come  the  time  for  the  final  test.  I warned  the  crew  that 
they  must  be  smart,  and  at  the  signal  bury  their  oars  in 
the  water  absolutely  together,  otherwise  we  should  upset. 
They  answered  to  my  challenge  that  they  understood 
and  were  ready.  So  at  the  words  of  command,  “Get 
ready  ! Are  your  ready  ! Row  ! Row  hard  ! ” we  were 

176 


Boat-Building 

off,  swishing  through  the  water.  I then  called  out : 
“ Easy  all ! ” followed  at  once  by  “ Hold  her  up ! ” when 
all  the  oars  are  turned  a little  more  than  the  feather  so 
that  the  blades  go  under  the  water.  Then  followed : 
“Hold  her  up  Aar*/ !”  when  all  the  eight  oars  should 
turn  square  at  once  and  the  boat  be  brought  to  a stand- 
still. But  all  the  blades  did  not  grip  the  water  together; 
stroke  side  did  do  so,  but  bow  side  failed,  with  the 
natural  result,  over  went  the  eight.  The  expression  on 
the  faces  of  the  men  was  so  amusing  that  I could  not 
help  roaring  with  laughter,  and  with  my  mouth  wide  open 
I disappeared  into  the  lake  with  the  rest.  This  was  most 
unfortunate,  as  water  went  down  my  wind-pipe,  so  that  I 
was  of  little  use  when  1 came  up  to  the  surface  of  the 
water  in  trying  to  support  the  lady  doctor,  and  also  in 
giving  the  necessary  orders.  Three  of  the  crew  had  lost 
their  heads  and  were  trying  to  keep  themselves  afloat  by 
hanging  on  to  the  riggers,  with  the  natural  result  that 
the  eight  kept  on  turning  round  and  round.  Whenever 
we  managed  to  get  our  lady  passenger  on  to  the  up- 
turned boat  it  would  immediately  be  turned  round. 
However,  after  a short  time  we  managed  to  keep  the 
boat  steady,  so  that  our  passenger  could  sit  comfortably 
on  the  keel  until  a rescue  boat  put  off  from  the  shore  and 
took  her  away  to  drier  quarters. 

We  then  turned  our  boat  right  side  up,  baled  the  water 
out  with  our  hands  as  we  swam  alongside,  and  finally 
one  by  one  crawded  into  our  places,  and  I was  able  to 
give  the  orders,  “ Get  ready  ! Are  you  ready  ? Paddle  ! ” 
and  so  we  brought  ourselves  and  ship  safe  to  land. 
Later  on  we  went  at  our  practice  for  holding  up  our  eight, 
and  I think  succeeded  in  obtaining  the  result  we  desired ; 
but  we  refrained  from  taking  passengers  aboard  when  at 
that  particular  practice  in  the  art  of  “ Holding  up  hard.” 

177 


M 


Boat-Building 

When  building  Kashmiri  boats  for  the  schools  I built 
boats  to  hold  a crew  of  fifteen,  but  like  the  ordinary 
shikaras  and  with  Kashmiri-shaped  paddles.  But  I had  to 
change  both  the  shape  of  the  boats  and  also  the  paddles, 
as  the  boatmen  would  steal  not  only  paddles  but  also  the 
school  boats,  and  it  was  almost  impossible  to  recover 
them.  We  lost  more  than  fifty  paddles  in  the  year,  so 
we  now  build  boats  on  our  own  pattern.  It  is  a mongrel, 
between  a Canadian  canoe,  Venetian  gondola  and 
Burmese  canoe.  Our  paddles  are  something  of  the  style 
of  Canadian  paddles,  but  shorter  and  of  thicker  build. 
It  is  no  use  for  the  boatmen  to  take  them,  for  they  could 
not  use  them  without  being  caught.  So  for  the  present 
our  property  is  safe. 

One  of  the  chief  features  of  the  river  is  the  increasing 
number  of  house-boats,  inhabited  chiefly  by  Europeans. 

As  no  European  is  allowed  to  possess  land  or  build 
houses  in  Kashmir,  with  the  exception  of  a certain  number 
of  huts  at  Gulmarg,  and  in  Srinagar  houses  for  officials,  a 
certain  number  on  rent,  house-boats  become  the  houses 
of  those  who  wish  to  stay  in  the  country.  These  boats 
are  of  all  shapes  and  sizes,  from  the  doonga  house-boat  to 
the  large  barges  such  as  one  sees  on  the  Thames,  some  of 
them  being  really  beautifully  furnished  floating  houses. 

Mr  Kennard  was  the  first  Englishman  to  build  a house- 
boat, and  although  he  built  it  more  than  thirty  years  ago 
it  is  still  going  strong.  He  was  fortunate  in  securing  the 
best  hewn  planks  from  well-chosen  deodar-trees.  Many 
of  the  house-boats  which  are  not  nearly  so  old  as  Mr 
Kennard’s  have  broken  backs,  from  the  fact  that  they 
were  built  by  amateurs,  who  did  not  understand  that  it 
was  necessary  for  their  hulls  to  be  built  with  a good 
sheer  or  curve. 

It  is  far  more  difficult  to  build  adroitly  a good  house- 

178 


Boat-Building 

boat  hull  that  will  last  than  it  is  to  build  the  hull  of 
a Kashmiri  rice  barge,  although  it  may  be  larger,  for  the 
simple  reason  that  whereas  the  Kashmir  barges  possess 
their  cross-beams  or  struts  to  keep  the  hulls  rigid,  the 
house-boats  have  to  dispense  with  them,  as  they  would 
get  in  the  way  of  their  owners  passing  from  one  room  to 
another. 

Also  people  will  have  their  upper  structures  built  right 
on  to  the  ends  of  their  hulls  both  fore  and  aft,  even 
where  the  ends  rise  out  of  the  water,  and  this  extra 
weight,  with  no  upward  pressure  of  water  to  meet  it, 
naturally  makes  the  ends  sag. 

This  sagging  gives  to  the  boats  a broken  back  and 
drunken  appearance,  which  is  unpleasant  to  look  at, 
besides  causing  the  boat  to  be  unseaworthy. 

My  wife  and  I lived  in  a house-boat  as  our  first  home, 
and  very  pleasant  it  was.  We  anchored  in  mid-stream 
in  order  to  get  all  the  fresh  air  we  could,  and  also  to  be 
free  from  annoyance,  as  I was  pestered  by  cadgers  of 
various  sorts. 

I found  great  peace  from  the  fact  of  having  thirty  or 
forty  yards  of  deep  water  between  me  and  the  mainland. 
I arranged  to  have  an  English  rowing-boat  moored  to  the 
bank  so  that  anyone  who  wanted  to  see  me  could  propel 
himself  to  my  boat.  I also  knew  that  most  of  the 
cadgers  could  not  row,  or  would  not  like  to  be  seen 
rowing,  which  was  in  those  days  considered  to  be  a most 
low-caste  proceeding.  To  explain  how  efficacious  was 
my  plan,  the  following  instance  will  suffice.  I was  told 
by  my  servant  that  a certain  Brahman  wanted  to  see  me, 
so  I told  him  to  tell  him  that  the  boat  was  at  the  bank 
and  he  was  permitted  to  make  use  of  it.  He  was  not 
pleased  with  this  answer,  and  asked  my  boatmen  to  come 
over  and  fetch  him,  but  they  were  deaf  to  his  entreaties. 

179 


Boat-Building 

So  my  would-be  visitor  was  obliged  to  do  what  the 
common  boatmen  do  and  propel  himself.  He  unmoored 
the  boat  and  shoved  off,  and  then  sat  on  the  seat  and 
tried  to  manipulate  the  sculls,  but  not  being  a waterman 
he  did  not  get  on  very  fast,  and  also,  not  realising  that 
the  current  of  the  river  is  usually  stronger  in  the  centre 
than  it  is  under  the  bank,  he,  instead  of  making  use  of 
the  slacker  water,  pulled  out  to  the  centre,  and  never 
reached  my  house-boat,  for  the  stream  swept  him  past. 
He  made  a great  effort  to  get  near,  but  the  stream  was 
too  much  for  him  and  he  was  carried  down  the  river.  I 
heard  him  calling,  but  his  voice  gradually  became  fainter 
and  fainter,  till  he  and  the  boat  became  a mere  speck  in 
the  distance,  and  my  troublesome  visitor  was  gone.  Later 
on  my  boatmen  went  down  the  river  and  brought  the 
boat  back  and  moored  it  to  the  bank,  ready  for  the  next 
would-be  visitor. 

I may  say  that  the  visitor  who  failed  to  reach  me  on 
that  occasion  later  on  learnt  to  row  and  to  make  boats,  and 
for  many  years  I have  always  been  glad  to  see  him  at  my 
home  when  he  feels  inclined  to  call,  but  he  is  a very  busy 
man,  and  one  for  whom  I have  great  respect,  for  he  is  an 
honest,  hard  worker. 

There  is  one  great  advantage  a house-boat  possesses 
over  a house  on  land,  and  that  is,  you  can  move  its 
situation  whenever  you  please.  There  are  few  more 
pleasant  experiences  than  being  towed  up  the  river  in 
your  house-boat.  The  motion  is  most  restful,  as  there  is 
no  jarring  or  shaking.  You  just  hear  the  sound  of  the 
water  as  it  laps  against  the  bows  of  your  boat  as  you  forge 
up-stream.  When  travelling  from  one  place  to  another 
there  is  no  packing  up  to  be  done.  You  simply  give  the 
word,  and  your  house  moves  to  the  spot  your  heart 
desireth.  In  the  winter  it  is  warmer  than  a house,  for 

j8o 


Boat-Building 

the  rooms  are  smaller  and  therefore  can  be  more  easily 
and  cheaply  kept  warm.  In  the  summer  a house-boat 
can  be  uncomfortably  hot,  but  you  can  generally  find 
a tree  under  which  to  moor  it.  But  there  is  a danger  to 
be  guarded  against,  for  the  river  is  apt  to  rise  unex- 
pectedly by  the  sudden  melting  of  snow,  and  when  the 
river  happens  to  rise  at  night,  and  everyone  is  asleep, 
your  boat  may  be  pressed  up  against  a branch  and  be 
upset  or  sunk.  So  one  must  always  look  out  for  the 
danger  when  choosing  a shady  tree. 

On  one  occasion  during  a flood  my  house-boat  was 
on  the  point  of  capsizing,  owing  to  its  having  become 
jammed  under  a stout  mulberry-tree  branch,  and  a 
catastrophe  was  only  just  averted  by  the  promptness  of 
Ismalia,  my  boatman,  who  dashed  up  on  to  the  roof  with 
a saw  and  severed  the  branch.  Had  it  happened  in  the 
night  it  would  have  certainly  meant  a cold  bath,  and 
probably  an  end  to  one’s  earthly  existence. 


1 8 1 


CHAPTER  XV 


EXPEDITIONS 

IT  is  not  so  easy  for  a Westerner  really  to  understand 
the  Eastern  unless  they  can  live  together  for  a while, 
for  as  a rule  their  acquaintance  is  very  superficial. 
Most  of  us  know  them  as  servants,  a few  more  as  clerks 
who  are  seen  only  during  office  hours.  Again,  still  fewer 
are  met  through  social  intercourse,  at  public  entertain- 
ments or  calls  at  one’s  house,  but  very  few  Europeans 
have  the  entrde  into  the  houses  of  the  people  of  India. 
To  know  people  properly  one  ought  to  know  them  in 
their  houses,  where  one  can  see  them  as  they  really  are. 

As  it  was  impossible  for  me  in  the  early  days  to  get 
into  the  houses  of  my  staff  and  pupils,  except  as  a visitor 
for  a short  time  to  drink  a cup  of  tea  or  to  visit  them 
when  ill,  I proposed  to  them  an  expedition  together  to 
a hut  in  the  forest  twenty  miles  distant.  We  were  to 
go  a party  of  twenty,  and  I had  nearly  completed  all 
arrangements  when  I was  told  it  was  impossible,  that  their 
parents  objected,  or  rather  the  Brahman  priests  did, 
saying  that  it  was  not  safe  from  a religious  point  of  view, 
for  they  might  go  to  the  forest  as  Brahmans  but  they 
would  return  Christians.  I suppose  the  priests  thought 
that  I should  persuade  them  to  eat  my  food  and  so  break 
their  caste.  The  Brahman’s  ideas  of  Christianity  and 
mine  were  on  a rather  different  plane. 

So  the  first  expedition  was  a “ wash-out.”  This  set- 
back naturally  made  me  all  the  more  keen  to  get  the 
better  of  the  Brahman  priests  in  this  matter,  for  I knew 

1S2 


Expeditions 

that  it  would  be  so  good  for  the  health  of  the  masters 
and  boys,  morally  as  well  as  physically,  to  get  away  from 
their  filthy  city  to  the  lakes  and  mountains,  and  breathe 
fresh  air  into  their  lungs  and  wholesome  thoughts  into 
their  souls. 

I thought  for  some  time,  and  at  last  I dreamed  of  a 
man-o’-war’s  cutter  with  twelve  oars  and  sails.  If  only 
I could  build  and  float  such  a boat  we  would  get  the 
better  of  the  priests. 

In  due  time  the  various  materials  were  collected  for 
making  our  boat.  We  found  the  deodar  log  out  of 
which  to  cut  our  planks  about  forty  miles  below  Srinagar 
and  had  it  brought  to  the  school.  We  sent  to  Calcutta 
for  the  copper  roves  and  rivets.  We  had  to  obtain  leave 
from  the  State  officials  to  cut  the  mulberry  wood  for  the 
ribs,  for  no  one  is  allowed  to  cut  a mulberry-tree.  Then 
when  all  was  collected  carpenters  were  called  and  the 
boat  was  built  in  the  school  compound. 

The  staff  and  the  boys  had  for  weeks  been  watching 
this  boat  in  building  and  had  became  almost  as  keen  as  I 
myself  to  see  it  afloat,  and  to  become  members  of  the 
crew\  We  had  arranged  to  row  down  to  Manisbal  Lake 
and  encamp  there  during  the  ten  days’  holiday  at  Easter. 

The  day  came,  but  the  boat  was  not  quite  finished ; 
notwithstanding,  we  launched  her  that  day  at  eight  o’clock 
in  the  evening  in  the  dark,  so  anxious  had  everyone 
become  to  start  in  our  new  boat.  If  I remember  rightly, 
there  wrere  twenty  in  all  in  the  boat,  but  we  soon  had  to 
shift  all  passengers  on  land,  for  the  boat  naturally  leaked 
like  a sieve,  as  the  planks  had  not  had  time  to  swell. 

However,  wfe  wrere  out  to  enjoy  ourselves,  and  a festive 
time  wre  had  of  it.  We  had  a journey  of  sixteen  miles 
before  us  before  we  could  reach  our  dinner  and  beds. 
So  the  twelve  oarsmen  pulled  away  and  the  balers  wrorked 

183 


Expeditions 

away  hard  to  keep  the  water  down.  At  midnight  we 
reached  our  camp  on  the  river  bank,  and  right  glad  we 
were  of  our  food. 

Next  day  we  dropped  down  the  river  another  four 
miles  and  then  into  the  beautiful  lake  of  Manisbal.  We 
were  fortunate  to  come  in  for  a breeze,  so  up  went  the 
sail.  It  was  amusing  to  see  the  faces  of  the  crew  and 
passengers  as  the  boat  heeled  over  and  cut  through  the 
waves,  their  first  experience  of  sailing,  a mixture  of 
pleasure,  excitement  and  fear  combined.  Presently  the 
breeze  freshened  up  and  we  were  soon  in  a sharp  squall. 
Now  all  sign  of  pleasure  disappeared  from  the  faces,  and 
when  we  shipped  water  they  began  to  cry  out  to  their 
gods,  “ Rama,”  “ Shiva,”  etc.,  and  some  threw  out  rice 
into  the  lake  to  appease  the  angry  gods.  Some  began  to 
weep,  as  they  thought  their  last  hour  had  come.  So  as 
we  were  nearing  the  shore  I called  out,  “ All  who  are 
cowards  and  wish  to  go  ashore,  hold  up  hands,”  hoping 
by  the  word  “ coward  ” that  they  would  not  like  to  hold 
up  their  hands,  but  I was  mistaken.  The  angle  of  the 
boat  and  the  spray  coming  on  board  were  too  much  for 
their  nerves.  So  I ran  ashore  and  deposited  all  but  three 
brave  fellows,  who  continued  to  face  the  elements  with 
me,  and  when  the  squall  had  blown  itself  out  we  landed, 
and  the  brave  trio  stepped  ashore  as  heroes. 

The  boat  had  behaved  well,  and,  moreover,  by  the 
evening  had  stopped  leaking,  so  that  several  of  the  crew 
were  able  to  sleep  with  me  on  the  bottom  of  the  boat. 
We  anchored  the  boat  out  in  the  lake  and  were  lulled  to 
sleep  by  the  lapping  of  the  waves  on  our  prow.  This 
was  the  first  time  that  they  had  slept  on  the  deep,  and  in 
this  way  step  by  step  they  began  to  get  over  their  fear 
of  the  winds  and  the  waves,  and  all  the  hosts  of  demons 
and  gods  which  inhabit  them. 

184 


Expeditions 

Next  day  we  had  planned  to  climb  the  mountain  which 
rises  straight  out  of  the  lake.  There  was  much  heart- 
searching over  this,  as  they  told  me  how  the  gods  in- 
habited the  mountains,  and  they  looked  upon  it  as  almost 
irreverent  to  try  to  enter  their  abode.  I do  not  know 
what  they  dreamt  of  that  night,  for  they  were  evidently 
nervous  about  the  morrow.  We  were  up  before  light, 
had  taken  our  food  and  started  off  at  four-thirty  a.m.  A 
coolie  came  with  us  to  carry  our  food.  We  arrived  at 
the  top  at  eight-thirty.  As  we  were  nearing  the  summit 
I noticed  that  they  were  not  anxious  to  go  on,  as  they 
felt  so  sure  they  were  nearing  the  abode  of  the  gods. 
At  the  top  was  a rocky  peak.  When  we  reached  this 
I announced  that  we  had  come  to  the  top  and  were 
therefore  in  the  land  of  the  gods  and  suggested  our 
catching  them,  for  if  the  gods  lived  on  the  tops  of  the 
mountains,  and  as  we  had  reached  the  top,  therefore  the 
gods  must  be  there.  So  I divided  the  party  into  two 
companies,  one  would  go  to  the  right  and  the  other  to 
the  left,  and  in  that  way  we  should  be  sure  to  catch  the 
gods. 

Both  parties  started  off  in  great  excitement,  and  with 
a certain  amount  of  fear,  but  what  they  expected  to  find 
I did  not  know. 

As  my  party  were  approaching  the  back  of  the  rock 
they  heard  footsteps,  which  set  their  hearts  beating  with 
fear  and  excitement,  and  as  they  came  round  the  corner 
on  tiptoe  they  fell  into  the  arms  of  the  other  party,  who 
were  doing  likewise.  Great  was  the  relief  when  they 
discovered  that  the  sounds  they  heard  were  not  made  by 
the  gods  but  by  ordinary  humans,  and  they  exclaimed  that 
after  all  the  tops  of  the  mountains  were  just  like  the 
bottoms  of  the  same,  and  that  their  fears  were  unfounded. 
They  all  shook  hands  and  seemed  to  be  very  delighted 

185 


Expeditions 

with  the  discovery.  But  sad  to  say  it  was  not  the  same 
with  our  food  coolie ; his  heart  had  failed  him  before  he 
reached  the  top,  and  we  did  not  see  him  again  till  our 
arrival  in  camp  in  the  evening,  on  the  lake-side.  I fear 
we  did  not  think  of  our  coolie  for  good  during  that 
hungry  day.  This  first  trip  to  the  mountain-top  gave  our 
party  such  an  appetite  for  more  mountain  and  other  trips 
that  the  Brahman  priests  never  got  the  better  of  us  again 
in  this  line. 

On  another  occasion  we  set  off  to  see  two  lakes,  Tarsa 
and  Marsa,  at  the  watershed  of  the  Laddah  and  Hariwan 
rivers,  and  a delightful  climb  it  was.  On  our  third  day 
it  poured  in  torrents,  so  much  so  that  we  could  not  strike 
camp  till  midday.  We  then  sent  our  camp  on  down  to 
the  foot  of  the  mountain,  which  we  intended  to  reach  in 
the  evening,  whilst  we  made  tracks  for  the  lakes.  These 
we  did  not  reach  until  about  five  p.m.,  so  that  by  the 
time  we  had  retraced  our  steps  along  the  heights  towards 
our  road  to  camp,  and  were  still  on  the  top  of  the  hills, 
darkness  came  on,  and  we  lost  our  way ; also  a terrific 
thunderstorm  burst  upon  us ; in  fact  we  seemed  to  be  in 
the  centre  of  the  storm.  We  were,  of  course,  drenched  to 
the  skin.  It  was  pitch  dark,  and  the  path  terribly  slippery 
from  the  torrents  of  rain,  so  our  progress  w^as  perforce 
very  slow  as  we  groped  our  way  downwards.  Every 
ten  minutes  I called  a halt  to  call  over  the  names  to 
see  that  we  were  all  safe,  and  so  we  spent  the  night 
groping  and  slipping  down  the  mountain  paths. 

In  the  early  morning  w^e  reached  a village,  and  woke 
up  some  of  the  inhabitants  to  get  their  help  to  find  our 
camp.  They  were  able  to  direct  us,  and  at  six-thirty  to 
our  relief  we  found  it,  and  glad  we  were  for  some  food  and 
rest.  But  we  could  not  rest  long,  as  school  commenced 
next  day:  therefore  we  wanted  to  reach  Srinagar  that 

1 86 


Expeditions 

night.  We  had  before  us  sixteen  miles  of  road,  and 
twenty-five  miles  to  row,  as  we  had  had  our  boats  sent  up 
to  meet  us.  In  order  to  speed  up  our  march  we  decided 
to  race  to  the  river,  which  we  reached  about  four  p.m. 

The  boat  in  which  I was  rowing  reached  Srinagar  at 
midnight,  but  the  twelve-oared  cutter  stuck  on  sand-banks 
and  did  not  arrive  until  nine  a.m.  next  morning.  Not- 
withstanding that  the  masters  had  been  on  the  march 
for  two  days  and  two  nights  without  a proper  rest,  they 
were  at  their  places  in  school  at  ten-thirty  a.m.  I was  so 
pleased  with  their  pluck  and  hard  work  that  I had  mercy 
on  them,  and  gave  the  school  a whole  holiday,  and,  to  tell 
the  truth,  was  not  at  all  averse  to  a holiday  myself,  as  I 
just  wanted  to  sleep. 

There  is  a river  which  joins  the  Jhelum  at  Srinagar, 
called  the  Dudli  Ganga,  which  means  the  milk  Ganges, 
but  is  called  nearer  its  source  Sangi  Safed,  meaning  the 
white  stone  ; it  rises  in  the  Pir  Punjab  The  Brahmans 
told  me  that  it  springs  out  of  a white  stone  and  there- 
fore is  of  a miraculous  origin.  I proposed  therefore  that 
we  should  follow  it  to  its  source,  to  see  if  it  really  came 
out  of  a white  stone,  and  not  out  of  a glacier,  which  I 
considered  more  likely.  So  we  made  up  a party  to  follow 
up  the  Sangi  Safed.  We  were  glad  to  leave  the  heat  of 
the  valley  in  the  month  of  July  and  refresh  ourselves  in 
the  land  of  snow  and  ice. 

These  trips  give  one  great  opportunities  of  getting  to 
know  the  inside  thoughts  of  those  amongst  whom  one’s 
daily  work  is  cast  in  Srinagar.  For  round  the  camp  fire 
at  night,  and  in  the  tents  after  dark,  the  men  open  out 
and  are  their  true  selves,  and  we  then  really  get  to  know 
one  another.  Then  in  our  climbs,  we  have  to  face  diffi- 
culties and  sometimes  dangers,  and,  in  the  common  sharing 
of  these,  lasting  friendships  are  formed. 

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Expeditions 

One  thing  especially  cheered  me  in  these  trips,  and 
that  was  the  way  in  which  the  teachers  and  boys  put 
up  with  discomforts,  such  as  hunger,  cold  and  fatiguing 
marching.  These  discomforts  and  others  they  invariably 
bore  bravely,  and  generally  saw  the  humour  in  it  all,  and 
laughed  heartily  over  their  troubles. 

The  first  night  we  were  encamped  in  the  forest,  and 
the  second  on  a marg  near  the  snows,  and  on  the  third 
day  we  had  found  the  source  of  the  Sangi  Safed.  It 
issued  forth  from  a small  glacier  which  was  more  brown 
than  white,  from  the  debris  which  it  brought  down  with 
it  from  the  heights  above. 

The  party  were  very  pleased  to  have  found  for  them- 
selves the  source  of  their  white  stone  and  milk  Ganges 
river,  but  expressed  the  belief  that  their  priests  would 
not  believe  them,  if  they  did  tell  them  that  they  had  seen 
the  river  issue  forth  from  a glacier,  and  that  there  was 
nothing  miraculous  in  it. 

We  were  now  near  a notable  peak,  about  16,000  feet 
high,  called  Tati  Kuti,  which  we  decided  to  try  to  climb ; 
from  where  we  were  it  looked  quite  possible.  After 
some  climbing  we  found  ourselves  on  the  knife  edge  of 
a great  spur.  It  absolutely  was  a knife  edge,  which  fact 
we  who  straddled  it  will  not  forget,  for  we  could  not 
walk  on  it.  Our  legs  each  side  hung  down  a precipice. 
We  divided  ourselves  into  two  parties  of  seven  each,  and 
roped.  For  quite  a distance  our  only  mode  of  progression 
was  to  straddle  the  knife  edge,  and  lift  ourselves  along 
with  our  hands,  as  the  knife  edge  was  decidedly  painful. 
Progression  was  very  slow,  for  when  we  could  use  our 
feet  we  had  to  use  our  hands  also,  as  it  was  not  a walk- 
ing road  by  any  means.  It  was  about  three  o’clock  that 
we  found  ourselves  facing  a precipice  of  several  hundred 
feet.  There  was  a great  fault  on  this  spur,  and  even  if 


Expeditions 

we  had  had  time  to  continue  our  climb  we  should  have 
found  it  impossible  to  go  farther  by  that  road ; so  we 
were  obliged  to  return  defeated,  and  suffer  discomfort 
again  on  the  knife  edge. 

Since  that  climb  of  ours  this  peak  has  been  explored  and 
climbed,  but  not  by  the  way  we  attempted  to  climb  it. 

On  our  return  to  Srinagar  the  Brahman  members  of  our 
party  told  their  priests  that  the  Sangi  Safed  issued  forth 
from  a glacier  and  not  from  a white  stone,  as  they  had 
traced  the  river  to  its  source  : but  their  answer  was  that 
they  evidently  had  not  traced  it  to  its  source,  for  if  they 
had  they  would  have  found  the  white  stone  from  which 
it  issued.  So  there  the  argument  rested,  both  sides  being 
satisfied  that  they  were  right. 

These  school  trips  are  profitable  in  many  ways,  for 
besides  the  main  objects,  which  are  for  health  and  re- 
freshment to  body  and  soul,  and  the  opportunities  we 
have  for  understanding  and  appreciating  one  another 
better,  there  is  always  much  to  learn.  It  is  seldom  that 
you  find  a Kashmiri  who  appreciates  the  glorious  beauties 
of  his  country.  He  likes  the  flowers,  for  crowds  of  people 
walk  in  the  orchards  around  the  city  in  the  springtime  so 
that  they  may  enjoy  the  blossoms,  but  the  mountains,  with 
their  foliage,  their  margs,  their  ever-changing  colours  and 
the  lights  and  shades,  they  never  seem  to  notice.  I was 
standing  one  beautiful  spring  morning  on  the  river  bank, 
drinking  in  the  glorious  view  before  me  of  the  green 
valley,  the  pine  forests  creeping  up  the  hill-sides,  and 
then  the  snow-covered  tops  of  the  mountains  just  glisten- 
ing with  dazzling  whiteness,  when  a Kashmiri  who  was 
passing,  seeing  that  I seemed  to  be  staring  at  some  object 
said:  “ What  is  the  Sahib  looking  at  ?”  I said  : “These 
glorious  mountains.”  He  answered : “ But,  Sahib,  haven’t 
they  always  been  there  ? ” 


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Expeditions 

No,  that  is  not  good  enough  ! We  want  to  open  their 
eyes  to  see  the  glorious  country  they  live  in,  to  be  proud 
of  it,  try  to  live  up  to  it,  and  help  others  to  do  the  same. 
Then  again  there  is  the  animal  world  which,  except  to 
the  few  shikaris  and  villagers  in  the  mountains,  is  a closed 
book.  I have  never  known  a Kashmiri  boy  collect  birds’ 
eggs.  They  do  not  know  or  care  anything  about  them. 
I held  up  a jackdaw’s  egg  one  day  in  school  before  more 
than  one  hundred  and  fifty  boys  and  asked  them  to  tell 
me  what  it  was.  They  exclaimed  that  it  was  an  egg, 
and  I elicited  the  fact  that  it  was  not  a common  barn-door 
fowl’s  egg,  but  none  of  them  could  get  any  further  than 
that,  with  the  exception  of  a Mohammedan  boy,  who  said 
that  he  knew  that  it  was  a jackdaw’s  egg,  for  he  had 
found  eggs  like  them  in  a jackdaw’s  nest.  All  the  boys 
turned  round  and  stared  at  the  prodigy  of  learning.  So 
on  our  trip  we  try  to  learn  all  we  can  of  animals  and 
birds. 

Eagles  are  always  entertaining,  and  one  is  never  tired 
of  watching  their  graceful  movements.  One  may  be  on 
a height,  and,  looking  down  several  thousand  feet,  see  an 
eagle  gradually  ascending.  He  never  seems  to  move  his 
wings,  except  just  to  set  them  like  a sail  to  the  breezes 
that  meet  him  as  he  tops  a spur  or  swings  round  an  angle 
of  a mountain.  Every  circle  brings  him  higher  and 
higher  until,  in  an  incredibly  short  time,  he  is  circling 
above  one  as  many  hundreds  or  thousands  of  feet  as  he 
was,  a few  minutes  before,  below  one.  The  use  that 
an  eagle  makes  of  the  wind  in  order  to  rise,  without 
apparently  any  effort  on  his  part,  always  brings  to  my 
mind  how  the  Spirit  of  the  Living  God  can  be  the  power 
to  raise  us  from  things  of  the  earth  to  things  spiritual. 
We,  like  the  eagle,  have  to  possess  the  wish  to  rise,  and 
set  our  wills  at  that  angle  which  will  enable  God’s  spirit 

190 


Expeditions 

to  lift  us.  The  power  is  there  always.  The  eagles  seem 
to  spend  the  whole  day  in  sailing  about,  for  rarely  does 
one  see  an  eagle  make  a nose  dive  after  its  prey  as  one 
sees  the  hawks  do  continually.  But  I did  see  a great 
dive  on  one  occasion.  I was  out  with  a friend  on  the  Pir 
Punjal  range;  my  friend  was  just  nearing  the  top,  which 
is  over  15,000  feet,  and  was  walking  on  an  edge,  a 
precipice  on  his  left  and  a steep  snow  slope  on  his  right, 
and  I was  about  five  hundred  feet  below  him,  and  was 
watching  him  plodding  slowly  along,  and  an  eagle  circling 
several  hundred  feet  above  him,  when  suddenly  I saw 
the  eagle  close  his  wings  and  come  down  like  an  arrow 
from  the  blue,  straight  for  my  friend.  I shouted  my 
loudest,  but  I was  too  far  off.  My  friend,  in  ignorance, 
climbed  on,  in  fact  I think  the  eagle  would  have  reached 
him  before  my  voice.  But  just  as  I expected  to  see 
my  friend  bowled  over  the  eagle  opened  his  wings  and 
sailed  off  majestically  : he  had  evidently  mistaken  his  white 
sun  hat  moving  over  the  snow  for  some  animal.  It  was 
well  for  my  friend  that  the  eagle  discovered  his  mistake 
before  striking. 

In  our  expeditions  it  was  always  our  object  to  turn  our 
days  to  full  use,  making  forced  marches  and  breaking 
former  records,  with  the  idea  of  hardening  ourselves  and 
creating  fresh  records  for  the  rising  generations  of  school- 
boys to  break.  You  see,  the  boys’  fathers  had  never  set 
examples  for  their  sons  in  this  line,  so  we  thought  it 
about  time  that  they  should  have  some  ideals  to  live  up  to, 
and  surpass,  and  create  new  ones. 

On  one  occasion  a party  of  fourteen  made  an  expedi- 
tion to  the  beautiful  lake  of  Konsar  Nag,  which  lies 
at  the  foot  of  a glacier,  10,000  feet  below  the  twin 
Brahman  peaks  on  the  Pir  Punjal.  The  lake  is  two  miles 
by  three-quarters  of  a mile  broad ; it  is  a lovely  emerald- 

191 


Expeditions 

green,  and  very  deep,  and  generally  has  icebergs  floating 
on  it  in  the  summer.  It  was  a beautiful  trip,  through 
forests  and  over  grassy  margs,  where  we  found  not  only 
the  usual  carpet  of  flowers,  but  mushrooms  galore,  far 
more  than  the  whole  party  of  fourteen  could  carry  away. 
On  that  one  day  we  walked  forty-five  miles,  and  no  one 
was  the  worse  for  the  forced  march. 

On  another  occasion  the  whole  school  fleet  took  part 
in  a thirty-mile  race,  from  Srinagar  to  Pampur  and  back. 
The  crews  towed  their  boats  most  of  the  way  up,  and 
paddled  and  rowed  back,  a hundred  or  so  boys  taking 
part  in  it.  That  record  was  beaten  by  a race  of  three 
rowing  boats  for  two  days  and  one  night  from  Srinagar 
to  Islamabad  and  back,  a distance  both  ways  of  ninety-six 
miles.  Whether  the  super-energy  did  us  any  good  or 
not  I do  not  knowr ; anyway,  we  have  created  records  for 
future  generations  to  beat. 

I will  now  close  this  chapter  on  expeditions  with  one 
of  our  annual  Wular  trips. 

At  Easter  we  had  our  usual  ten  days’  holidays,  and 
according  to  custom  called  for  volunteers  to  join  the 
Wular  Lake  camp,  which  meant  a healthy  life  under 
canvas  at  this  beautiful  and  much-dreaded  lake,  which 
is  about  fourteen  miles  long  by  seven  broad.  We  rowed 
the  thirty  miles  down  from  Srinagar  in  our  twelve-oared 
cutter,  six-oared  galley,  and  Thames  skiff,  a party  of 
twenty-eight.  We  hoped  that  iEolus  would  be  kind  to 
us,  as  he  had  been  on  other  occasions,  and  squeeze  his 
wind-bags  so  that  we  might  have  full  use  for  our  sails, 
and  try  the  nerves  of  our  new  hands.  Well,  iEolus  did 
us  very  well  on  the  whole,  but  I will  recount  only  one 
of  our  trips.  Some  huge  dredgers  were  being  built  at 
Baramulla,  some  eighteen  miles  down  the  river,  and  that 
gave  us  an  object  for  a long  day’s  trip.  We  were  off 

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Expeditions 

shortly  after  sunrise,  rowing  seven  miles  across  the  lake, 
then  down  the  Jhelum,  about  ten  miles,  and  reached 
Baramulla  at  midday.  The  engineers  on  the  dredging 
works  were  most  kind  in  helping  us  to  see  everything  of 
interest.  The  Roman  Catholic  padre  at  Baramulla  most 
kindly  entertained  the  crews  to  a meal,  and  at  three 
o’clock,  when  we  cast  off,  was  present  on  the  bank  with 
all  his  schoolboys  to  give  us  three  cheers ; we  returned 
the  compliment  by  giving  them  a salute  of  oars. 

Towing  and  rowing  up-stream  was  a very  different 
matter  from  our  row  down  in  the  morning,  for  thousands 
of  sleepers  had  been  released  up-stream  on  their  long 
journey  to  the  railways  in  the  Punjab,  and  we  had  a 
great  time  trying  to  dodge  them,  which  required  most 
careful  steering,  and  we  were  delayed  a great  deal  in 
consequence.  Then,  to  make  matters  worse,  a heavy 
thunderstorm  blew  up  against  us.  These  untoward 
circumstances  delayed  us  so  much  that  it  was  quite  dark 
when  we  reached  the  lake,  and  the  seven  miles  of  the 
dreaded  Wular  lay  between  us  and  our  camp. 

Some  of  the  crew  were  for  putting  off  the  crossing 
until  the  morning,  as  they  had  never  heard  of  any  boat 
crossing  the  lake  at  night,  and  especially  during  a 
thunderstorm,  and  certainly  no  boat  had  ever  sailed 
across  under  these  circumstances.  (Kashmiris  do  not  use 
sails  and  hate  the  wind.) 

However,  at  the  order  “ Sails  up ! ” every  man  fell  to 
work,  and  in  a few  minutes  the  cutter  was  heeling  over 
to  a stiff  breeze  which  came  in  gusts,  and  heading  for 
what  we  believed  was  our  camp  in  the  thick  darkness 
ahead. 

We  were  congratulating  ourselves  at  starting  that 
there  were  a few  stars  to  be  seen,  and  an  occasional  out- 
line of  a mountain,  but  before  long  all  our  steering  points 

i93 


N 


Expeditions 

were  gone,  and  the  only  time  we  saw  the  mountains  was 
when  the  lightning  took  pity  on  us.  To  make  matters 
worse  the  wind  kept  shifting — in  fact,  before  we 
reached  home  the  wind  had  blown  from  every  quarter. 
Consequently  we  had  to  be  continually  shifting  the  crew 
from  one  gunwale  to  the  other.  We  had  fortunately 
fixed  cross-trees  on  to  the  foremast  close  to  the  deck,  on 
which  we  could  place  one,  two  or  three  men  according 
to  the  strength  of  the  wind ; but  this  caused  us  a little 
anxiety,  for  had  the  stay  broken  the  men  would  have 
dropped  overboard,  and  to  pick  them  up  in  the  darkness 
would  have  been  somewhat  difficult.  So  one’s  eyes 
were  continually  upon  those  forms,  which  could  just  be 
discerned,  squatting  like  monkeys  on  the  spar. 

Fortunately  we  could  see  occasionally  fires  on  the 
shore,  more  or  less  in  the  direction  we  believed  our  camp 
to  be,  and  with  the  help  of  these  fires  and  continual 
soundings  we  managed  a fairly  straight  course. 

All  the  crews  were  thoroughly  enjoying  the  excitement 
of  this  night  voyage,  with  the  exception  of  the  Sanskrit 
teacher,  a Brahman  who  had  not  been  on  the  lake  before. 
He  was  praying  out  aloud  the  whole  journey,  and  making 
various  vows  to  certain  of  his  special  gods  and  goddesses, 
and  calling  upon  them  at  intervals,  especially  when  the 
boat  pitched  more  than  usual,  or  a big  wave  hit  us. 
From  his  many  prayers  I gathered  this  much : he  promised 
to  the  deities  four  special  treats:  (i)  He  would  devote 
one  whole  day’s  fast  to  a certain  goddess  (I  forget  the 
lady’s  name,  1 regret  to  say).  (2)  Another  goddess  (I 
grieve  to  say  that  her  name  too  has  slipped  my  memory) 
was  to  have  flat  unleavened  bread  (chupattis).  (3)  He 
promised  to  Ganesh,  the  elephant  god,  some  special 
sweet  cakes.  (4)  He  would  present  Hanuman,  the 
monkey  god,  with  rice  balls  mixed  with  sugar.  (Our 

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Expeditions 

Brahman  friend  evidently  knew  how  to  get  round  Mr 
Hanuman.) 

The  rest  of  the  crew,  although  they  also  were  Brahmans, 
were  much  amused,  and  were  inclined  to  fool  him;  but 
I told  them  to  let  him  pray  to  his  heart’s  content,  so  long 
as  he  prayed  in  the  spot  where  his  ballast  was  needed, 
and  he  was  disturbed  only  when  his  body  was  needed  on 
the  opposite  thwart. 

The  religious  man  was  evidently  a man  of  perception, 
for  he  had  purchased  in  the  town  some  “sugar-candy”; 
as  he  knew  that  the  gods  would  never  refuse  candy,  he 
had  brought  this  as  a last  resource,  so  that  when  his 
prayers  and  vows  should  fail  the  candy  would  be  the 
pihe  de  resistance . 

We  had  begun  to  pitch  and  to  heel  over  a little  more 
than  usual,  and  evidently  he  thought  that  his  end  was 
nigh,  so  out  came  the  candy,  and  the  gods  were  smacking 
their  lips,  when  their  treat  was  snatched  away  from  them 
by  one  of  the  crew  who  also  liked  candy. 

To  me  all  this  was  very  interesting,  as  I looked  back 
to  the  days  when  we  made  our  first  trip  across  this  lake 
in  the  same  boat  fifteen  years  ago,  but  in  daylight.  Then 
all  the  crew  held  the  same  views  as  this  frightened 
Sanskrit  teacher;  they  were  crying  at  intervals  the  whole 
journey  to  their  gods,  Shiva  and  Rama,  and  heaving  out 
sugar  and  rice  into  the  lake.  Some  called  aloud  “ Shiva, 
Shiva ! ” whilst  others  went  on  muttering  under  their 
breath  these  sacred  names,  and  a few  bent  their  heads 
whilst  the  tears  trickled  down  their  cheeks  as  they  wept 
silently  and  thought  of  their  dear  ones  at  home ! . . . 
“ Oh,  my  poor  mother ! ” Well,  we  reached  our  camp  at 
last,  to  the  astonishment  of  those  in  camp  and  the  villagers, 
as  they  did  not  expect  us  to  attempt  the  night  sail  in  a 
thunderstorm.  Our  Sanskrit  teacher  was  more  delighted 

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Expeditions 

than  any,  and  was  ready  to  fulfil  his  vows;  but  thinking 
it  a pity  that  his  vows  should  be  wasted,  we  suggested  to 
him  that  he  might  do  some  good  with  them,  and  instead 
of  throwing  all  these  promised  delicacies  into  the  water, 
from  which  element  the  monkey  god  and  others  were 
expected  to  take  them,  it  would  be  more  to  the  point  if 
he  gave  them  to  some  poor  women  in  his  district ; and, 
somewhat  to  our  surprise  and  pleasure,  he  fell  in  with 
this  suggestion : so  someone  profited  by  that  night’s  sail 
across  the  dreaded  Wular  Lake. 


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CHAPTER  XVI 


A TRIP  TO  LADAKH 

IT  was  in  the  summer  of  the  year  1896  that  I had  the 
opportunity  of  accompanying  Dr  Ernest  Neve  on  a 
trip  to  Ladakh,  or  Lesser  Tibet.  From  Srinagar  to 
Leh,  the  capital  of  that  country,  is  a distance  of  224  miles, 
and  takes  usually  twelve  days  to  march — i.e.  about  seven- 
teen miles  a day,  which  is  as  much  as  loaded  coolies 
or  ponies  can  be  expected  to  accomplish,  as  some  of  the 
marches  are  over  high  passes.  I was,  however,  not  able 
to  get  away  with  Dr  Neve,  as  my  school  duties  kept  me, 
but  the  Commissioner  of  Ladakh,  Captain  Cheveneux 
Trench,  kindly  asked  me  to  join  his  party.  He,  however, 
was  starting  four  days  before  I could  get  away,  so  I had 
to  make  forced  marches  to  catch  up  his  party.  I did  the 
first  four  and  a half  marches  in  about  thirty  hours,  by 
leaving  Srinagar  at  midnight  by  shikara.  Ismalia  and  his 
crew  paddled  all  night  across  the  Unchar  Lake,  and  up 
the  Sindh  river  to  Gunderbal,  which  was  the  first  stage. 
When  I opened  my  eyes  at  six-thirty  a.m.  next  morning 
I saw  my  first  mount  looking  at  me,  and  telling  me, 
as  it  seemed,  to  hurry  up.  After  breaking  my  fast  I 
mounted  and  was  off.  The  mare  was  a beautiful  beast 
lent  to  me  by  Miss  Newmam,  one  of  our  missionary  staff. 
It  was  a glorious  day,  and  the  pony  seemed  to  be  aware 
of  the  fact  also,  for  she  bounded  forward  like  a deer, 
according  to  her  usual  custom. 

Our  path  led  us  up  the  Sindh  Valley  with  the  rushing, 
roaring  river  on  our  right.  It  was  early  summer,  so  the 

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A Trip  to  Ladakh 

wild  roses  were  in  full  bloom,  and  flowers  in  all  directions, 
such  as  anemones,  balsams,  columbines,  larkspur  and 
ragwort,  were  one  burst  of  green. 

We  were  going  so  fast  that  we  came  upon  snakes  in 
the  path  before  they  had  time  to  get  into  hiding.  At 
about  midday  I came  upon  my  own  pony  and  the  deer’s 
sais  waiting  for  me  under  the  shade  of  a great  walnut- 
tree.  I soon  changed  mounts,  the  sais  took  back  his 
own  property,  and  I sped  away  up  the  path,  which  had 
now  become  rocky,  as  the  valley  gradually  narrowed  in. 
At  about  five  o’clock  I found  my  own  sais  and  a third 
pony  waiting  for  me,  which  took  me  up  to  Sona  Marg, 
about  eight  miles  distant,  and  to  my  camp,  which  some 
days  before  had  been  sent  on  ahead.  Sona  Marg  is 
a lovely  stretch  of  grass  and  flowers,  at  a height  of 
10,000  feet,  surrounded  by  peaks  of  18,000  feet,  and 
three  glaciers  at  the  head  of  their  respective  valleys  can 
be  seen  looking  down  upon  one  from  the  east.  Sona 
Marg  means  “ the  meadow  of  gold,”  and  at  one  time  was 
the  hill  station  of  Srinagar.  The  natives  tell  you  that 
there  are  many  snakes  there.  They  hold  the  belief  that 
those  valleys  into  which  the  mountain  Hari  Mouk  cannot 
look  have  an  abundance  of  snakes. 

Next  day  being  Sunday  I rested,  intending  to  start 
after  midnight,  so  my  tent  was  packed  up  ready  for  the 
start.  I tried  to  sleep  in  the  verandah  of  the  post  office, 
but  the  fleas  thought  otherwise  and  drove  me  out.  The 
fleas  on  this  Central  Asian  road  seemed  to  be  champion 
hoppers,  for  it  was  not  only  in  the  Sona  Marg  P.O.  that 
we  met.  At  twelve  o’clock  in  bright  moonlight  we 
started.  My  servant  was  a fine  lusty  Mohammedan  (who 
before  my  eyes  on  one  occasion  rescued  two  men  at  the 
same  time  from  drowning) ; he  tried  to  beguile  the  time 
by  telling  me  stories  of  the  ancient  kings  of  Kashmir  as 

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A Trip  to  Ladakh 

we  trudged  on  the  nine  miles,  and  by  dawn  found  our- 
selves at  Baltal,  situated  at  the  foot  of  the  pass  called 
Zogi  La.  It  is  not  a high  pass,  being  only  11,500  feet, 
but  a steep  road,  and  dangerous  for  ponies  on  account  of 
the  hard  snow  and  ice  slopes.  The  caravans  lose  many 
ponies  on  this  pass.  One  of  my  ponies  slipped  down  into 
the  torrent,  but  was  rescued,  with  its  load — fortunately 
with  little  damage,  thanks  to  the  promptness  and  strength 
of  my  lusty  servant. 

At  the  top  of  the  pass  on  the  watershed  there  was 
deep  snow  for  some  miles.  It  was  not  unlike  a frozen- 
rough  sea,  the  snow  having  drifted  into  small  hillocks  like 
waves  and  breakers,  and  therefore  not  easy  going.  If 
there  was  so  much  snow  in  the  summer,  one  can  imagine 
somewhat  of  the  dangers  to  the  dak  runners,  or  anyone 
else  whose  duty  takes  them  along  that  road  in  the 
winter. 

The  following  story  was  told  me  by  one  of  the 
Moravian  missionaries.  He  was  on  his  way  from  Leh, 
which  is  the  capital  of  Ladakh,  to  India  on  important 
business — viz.  to  meet  his  bride  at  Bombay — and  was 
obliged  to  travel  in  the  early  spring,  which  is  a most 
dangerous  time  for  crossing  the  passes.  He  was  nearing 
the  Zogi  La  Pass  when  he  was  overtaken  by  a blizzard, 
and  soon  he  found  that  he  had  lost  his  way  as  the  fresh 
snow  had  covered  the  tracks  of  the  mail  runners.  It  was, 
of  course,  bitterly  cold,  and  he  could  see  no  distance 
ahead  on  account  of  the  blinding  snow,  driven  against 
him  by  the  strong  cutting  wind.  After  a vain  hunt  to 
find  tracks,  he  was  forced  to  give  up  the  search,  and  as 
night  was  fast  approaching  he  saw  no  possibility  of 
surviving  the  night  except  through  Divine  help,  so  he 
prayed  earnestly  that  his  life  might  be  spared. 

He  had  only  just  finished  praying  when  he  saw 

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A Trip  to  Ladakh 

a figure  which  he  thought  must  be  a belated  mail  runner, 
so  with  thankfulness  and  joy  he  followed  this  figure,  when 
suddenly  it  disappeared.  He  went  to  the  place  where 
he  last  saw  the  figure,  and  there  he  found  a hole  in  the 
snow,  into  which  he  descended,  and  found  himself  in  one 
of  the  stone  shelters  built  for  the  safety  of  the  mail 
runners.  But  what  was  his  astonishment  to  find  the 
shelter  empty.  No  one  was  there ! He  then  realised 
that  his  prayer  had  been  answered  in  a most  unexpected 
manner,  and  that  his  life  had  been  spared  for  future 
service. 

Even  though  I was  crossing  the  pass  in  June  I had 
miles  of  snow  to  traverse,  and  was  glad  when  at  last  rocks 
and  grass  began  to  appear.  I kept  on  the  trudge  till 
about  three-thirty  p.m.  I was  feeling  very  tired  and 
sleepy,  as  I had  been  on  the  march  since  twelve  o’clock 
the  night  before,  so  as  I was  well  ahead  of  my  luggage 
ponies  I lay  down  by  the  side  of  the  road  for  a rest,  and 
knew  no  more  until  I found  my  servant  looking  at  me, 
some  hours  later,  and  saw  that  the  sun  had  set  behind 
the  mountains,  and  it  was  time  to  move  on  with  the  ponies 
and  luggage,  which  had  also  arrived.  The  small  stone 
huts  which  make  up  the  village  of  Matayan  were  not 
far  off,  and  I was  glad  to  think  of  some  food  and  sleep. 

It  had  been  raining  hard  a few  hours  previously,  for 
when  we  entered  the  rest-house  we  found  it  deep  in 
water,  as  the  floor  was  below  the  level  of  the  road. 
However,  the  legs  of  my  camp  bed  were  higher  than  the 
depth  of  water,  so  I kept  dry;  and  in  consequence  of 
the  water  I was  mercifully  saved  from  an  attack  by  the 
champion  fleas  of  the  Central  Asian  route.  It  would  be 
great  if  all  the  rest-houses  along  the  road  could  be  turned 
into  shallow  tanks,  then  one  might  be  able  to  use  them 
with  some  comfort.  Perhaps  I am  maligning  them,  for 


200 


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A Trip  to  Ladakh 

I hear  that  there  are  now  well-built  rest-houses  all  along 
this  road,  so  that  my  plan  of  tanks  may  be  out  of  date. 
From  Matayan  down  the  rocky  valley  to  Dras  was  a very 
hot  march.  The  only  trees  that  I remember  were  the 
tiny  pencil  cedars.  The  road  below  Matayan  sweeps 
round  the  base  of  a magnificent  mass  of  limestone,  with 
splendid  cliffs  below,  and  giant  steps  above,  culminating 
in  picturesque  castellated  forms.  The  rushing,  sparkling 
river  was  very  inviting,  and,  as  I was  some  miles  ahead  of 
my  followers,  I had  plenty  of  time  for  a bathe.  It  was 
not  all  joy,  on  account  of  the  rocky  floor.  I do  not  think 
I ever  remember  bathing  off  such  a spiky  beach. 

I had  not  finished  my  ablutions  when  I discovered  two 
pairs  of  dark  eyes  looking  at  me  over  a wall  close  by. 
Men  they  were,  with  long  black  hair.  They  looked  so 
unprepossessing  that  I immediately  came  out  of  the  water 
to  get  near  my  clothes  and  alpenstock,  for  I thought 
they  were  intending  to  annex  them.  What  a plight  I 
should  have  been  in  if  they  had  been  successful : miles 
from  anywhere  or  any  friend,  in  a scorching  valley,  with 
the  fierce  rays  of  the  sun  beating  on  my  bare  body,  and 
no  fig-trees  at  hand  from  which  to  make  myself  an  apron. 
So  I commenced  putting  on  my  clothes  as  quickly  as  my 
wet  body  would  allow  me,  keeping  my  eyes  on  these 
black  eyes  and  my  right  hand  near  my  alpenstock.  I 
sincerely  hoped  that  I should  not  be  obliged  to  fight  until 
I had  put  on  my  boots,  as  the  rocks  were  most  painful. 
I might  no  doubt  have  saved  myself  from  vain  imagina- 
tions. These  two  fierce,  wild  men  may  have  been 
watching  me  in  order  to  take  care  of  me,  in  that  swift 
icy-cold  river,  with  no  ideas  of  robbery,  for  when  in 
Ladakh  I heard  that  the  people  are  most  honest,  and 
one  can  always  leave  one’s  property  about  without  fear  of 
having  it  stolen. 


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A Trip  to  Ladakh 

Having  bathed,  the  next  thing  I needed  was  food,  for 
it  was  many  hours  since  breakfast.  I soon  met  two  more 
long  black-haired  men  who  were  carrying  large  round 
cakes  of  Indian  corn.  I bought  one  of  them.  I do  not 
know  how  many  days  ago  it  had  been  baked,  but  it  was 
extremely  hard,  stale  and  sour.  However,  I soaked  it  in 
a stream,  and  was  then  able  to  get  it  down,  or  at  least 
some  of  it. 

Later  on  I made  friends  with  some  villagers,  and  they, 
to  show  that  they  meant  well,  brought  me  as  much  milk 
as  I could  drink.  I was  then  so  thirsty  that  I did  justice 
to  their  supply.  I sat  with  these  kindly  folk  until  I saw 
my  caravan  approaching.  When  it  arrived  we  continued 
our  journey,  and  in  course  of  time  we  arrived  on  a great 
open  wind-swept  plain,  and  soon  saw  a group  of  stone  and 
mud  houses,  which  calls  itself  Dras,  the  capital  of  the 
country  of  Dras. 

Here  I found  a British  officer  encamped  on  his  way 
back  to  India  after  ibex  hunting.  My  camp  was  pitched 
upon  the  plain,  and  I had  just  finished  my  tea,  for  which 
I was  most  grateful,  after  that  grilling  march  down  that 
treeless  valley,  and  was  putting  things  straight  when 
down  came  a great  gale  of  wind.  I had  to  hang  on  with 
all  my  might  to  one  of  my  tent-poles  to  prevent  the  tent 
coming  down,  while  my  servant  hammered  hard  at  the 
tent-pegs.  While  this  was  going  on  I heard  shouts,  and 
saw  the  major’s  property  fast  disappearing  out  of  his 
tent,  sailing  down  the  plain  before  the  blast.  So  I ran 
to  the  rescue,  and  was  just  in  time  to  save  his  tent  from 
collapsing  entirely,  for  one  of  his  tent-poles  had  already 
fallen.  The  gale  soon  blew  itself  out,  and  all  was  peace 
and  quiet  once  more,  except  for  the  visits  of  the  prowling 
pariah  dogs  from  the  city  of  Dras. 

Next  day  we  were  up  betimes,  and  I marched  on  ahead 


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A Trip  to  Ladakh 

and  arrived  at  the  Commissioner’s  camp  at  K argil  in  time 
for  a late  breakfast.  His  party  consisted  of  Mr  and  Mrs 
Beech  (Beech  stood  six  feet  six  inches,  a giant  of  a man)  ; 
Mrs  Darrah,  whose  husband,  a great  sportsman,  was 
awaiting  her  in  Leh ; Jack  Phelps  and  P.  H.  Church,  who 
were  on  a long  expedition  to  the  district  of  the  Pang 
Gong  Lake,  a salt  lake  100  miles  in  length,  and  the 
Chang  Chenmo,  after  “ ovis  ammon  ” and  “ ovis  poli.” 
1 received  a hearty  welcome  and  a real  good  breakfast, 
which  I much  enjoyed  after  my  forced  march  to  catch  up 
this  party. 

Kargil  is  the  capital  of  a district  called  Purik,  and  is 
inhabited  by  Mohammedans  of  the  Shiah  sect.  Colonel 
Ward  mentions  a curious  custom  in  connection  with  the 
burial  of  their  dead.  An  aperture  is  left  in  the  earth  over 
the  grave,  and  a rectangular  box  of  masonry  is  built  over 
this,  with  a small  door  and  window.  Flour  is  dropped 
dow7n  on  the  body ; this  is  done  at  intervals  for  a period 
of  three  moons.  Afterwards  the  hole  above  the  body  is 
closed,  as  also  the  door  and  window7. 

That  morning  the  Governor  of  the  Province  called  on 
us.  He  was  a Kashmiri  Brahman,  a little  man,  but  from 
the  size  of  his  lower  chest  he  evidently  had  done  himself 
well.  Captain  Trench  asked  him  to  show  him  his  state- 
ment of  grain  accounts,  as  there  wras  a threatened  shortage 
of  food  that  autumn.  He  had  received  orders  to  keep 
large  stores  of  grain  in  case  of  emergencies,  the  old 
fort  on  the  hill  having  been  requisitioned  for  such 
a purpose.  The  books  w7ere  brought,  and  from  them 
Captain  Trench  saw7  that  his  orders  had  been  faithfully 
obeyed,  and  the  fort  was  just  bulging  w7ith  grain,  like  the 
Governor’s  lower  chest.  Captain  Trench  was  so  pleased 
to  hear  of  the  great  supplies  that  he  told  the  Governor 
he  w7ould  like  to  see  how7  he  had  managed  to  store  so 

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A Trip  to  Ladakh 

much,  and  would  visit  the  fort  that  very  afternoon  at 
three  p.m. 

At  two-thirty  the  Governor  with  his  suite  arrived  at 
our  camp  again,  to  invite  the  Commissioner  Sahib  and  all 
his  party  to  take  tea  with  him  at  his  house,  but  as  it  was 
such  a hot  day  surely  it  would  be  more  comfortable  for 
the  ladies  if  they  and  all  the  party  came  up  later,  say 
four-thirty  p.m.  Captain  Trench  accepted  for  the  whole 
party,  but  said  that  he  at  any  rate  would  visit  the  fort 
first  and  afterwards  come  on  to  tea.  So  we  all  climbed 
the  hill  towards  the  fort,  and  as  we  neared  it  the  Governor 
again  pressed  Captain  Trench  to  come  straight  to  his 
house  for  tea  and  afterwards  visit  the  fort,  for  was  it  not 
very  hot? — and  the  evening-time  would  be  cooler,  etc. 
Captain  Trench  would  not  give  in,  and  made  straight  for 
the  fort,  we  all  following  him. 

When  we  all  entered  through  the  large  gateway  into 
the  quadrangle  Captain  Trench  asked  the  Governor  where 
the  store-rooms  were.  The  Governor  pointed  towards 
a certain  door.  Captain  Trench  asked  the  Governor  to 
have  the  door  opened,  whereupon  he  called  to  a chaprasi 
to  go  and  bring  the  keys.  The  chaprasi  remained  absent 
a long  time,  so  the  Governor  again  asked  Captain  Trench 
to  come  to  his  house  for  tea  while  the  keys  were  being 
fetched.  But  no.  Captain  Trench  was  firm  on  the  point, 
he  would  see  the  store  first,  and  asked  the  Governor  to 
hurry  up  his  chaprasi.  So  another  man  was  sent  after 
the  first.  At  last  the  servant  arrived,  breathless,  with  a 
huge  bunch  of  large  keys,  and  commenced  trying  to — or, 
to  be  truthful,  pretending  to — open  the  great  lock.  He 
went  through  the  whole  lot,  but  no  key  would  fit  it.  So 
the  Governor  again  broached  the  subject  of  tea,  and 
apologised  for  the  foolishness  of  his  servant,  explaining 
that  the  man  with  the  right  set  of  keys  had  left  the 

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A Trip  to  Ladakh 

office  with  the  keys.  So  Captain  Trench  asked  the 
Governor  to  send  a man  after  him  and  fetch  the  keys, 
lie  said  that  he  would,  but  this  servant  with  the  keys 
lived  a long  way  off,  and  it  would  all  take  time,  and 
again  mentioned  tea  first. 

Captain  Trench’s  patience  was  beginning  to  give  out, 
and  he  said  : “ Do  not  bother  about  the  keys : we  will  soon 
burst  that  door  open  with  that  big  beam,”  pointing  to  one 
leaning  against  the  wall. 

The  Governor  begged  him  not  to  do  that,  for  he 
would  send  a man  running  to  fetch  the  right  keys.  In 
an  extraordinarily  short  time,  considering  the  great  dis- 
tance this  man  was  supposed  to  have  covered,  the  man 
arrived,  puffing  and  blowing,  playing  his  part  well,  with 
another  (?)  great  bunch  of  keys,  though  uncommonly  like 
the  first  bunch  which  had  proved  useless. 

The  keys  were  applied,  but  the  lock  refused  to  be 
opened.  Again  the  Governor  expressed  his  sorrow  for 
the  delay,  and  was  about  to  suggest  tea  once  more,  when 
the  battering-ram  again  was  mentioned,  and  Captain 
Trench  made  a move  towards  it.  Then  the  Governor, 
seeing  his  game-  was  up,  gave  a sign,  and  the  key  turned 
the  lock  and  the  door  swung  open.  Captain  Trench 
went  in ; the  great  store-room  was  entirely  empty : not 
one  single  sack  of  grain  was  there. 

Captain  Trench  came  out  and  said  to  the  Governor: 
“ Why  did  you  bring  me  to  this  empty  store-room  ? I 
want  to  see  your  stores  of  grain,  and  not  empty  rooms. 
The  Governor  apologised  to  Captain  T.,  and  sw?ore  at  his 
servants  for  having  made  fools  of  them  all,  and  ordered 
them  at  once  to  open  those  store-rooms  where  the  grain 
was.  The  servants’  faces  were  a study,  and  their  hands 
and  knees  literally  shook,  as  they  did  not  know  which 
orders  they  were  to  obey — the  ones  given  by  the  Governor 

205 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

before  the  arrival  of  Captain  Trench  or  the  ones  now 
given.  However,  the  Governor  pointed  to  another  door, 
and  ordered  it  to  be  opened.  Again  there  was  going  to 
be  the  same  waste  of  time  over  the  keys,  when  Captain 
T.  cut  it  short  by  stepping  towards  the  battering-ram  and 
asking  me  to  help  him. 

Then  the  door  was  opened,  and  we  found  this  store- 
room also  absolutely  empty.  At  last  the  play  was  over 
— the  chief  actor,  forgetting  all  his  greatness,  fell  on  his 
knees  before  Captain  T.,  and  with  hands  in  the  attitude 
of  prayer  pleaded  for  mercy.  Captain  Trench  told  him 
to  go  home,  and  he  would  see  him  at  the  Public  Durbar 
next  day.  So  our  tea  with  the  Governor  was  off,  and 
we  went  back  to  camp  with  much  to  think  about. 
Captain  Trench  had  caught  out  this  scoundrel  properly, 
but  how  about  providing  grain  for  the  people  under  his 
care  with  an  empty  store-house?  Next  day  was  a very 
great  day.  Officials  of  all  sorts  came  pouring  in  from 
all  sides  on  their  ponies — some  from  villages  ioo  miles 
or  more  distant.  There  were  Chaukidars,  Chakdars, 
Lambardars,  Zaildars,  Tehsildars,  Thanidars,  and  I do 
not  know  how  many  other  dars  and  small  rajas  and 
wazirs,  with  their  retainers,  all  in  their  best  clothes.  It 
was  a great  sight.  All  were  on  the  tiptoe  of  excite- 
ment, for  they  had  heard  how  the  Sahib  had  caught  out 
the  Brahman  Governor.  A few  were  anxious  and  sad, 
for  had  they  not  worked  with  him  and  shared  in  some  of 
the  loot;  but  the  great  majority  had  known  of  this  whole- 
sale robbery,  but  had  not  dared  to  mention  it,  for  was 
not  the  Governor  a great  man,  of  a noble  family,  and  in 
high  favour  at  Court. 

Captain  Trench  soon  made  it  plain  what  he  thought  of 
this  great  scoundrel.  It  was  a treat  watching  the  faces 
of  the  multitude  as  this  villain  received  his  deserts.  I 

206 


[ V isAm  Naih 

I hoto  bv]  , 

Four  Ladies  of  Ladakh. 

On  the  head  of  the  figure  to  the  right  notice  the  magnificent  " rough  ” turquoise-  These  are  probably  an  heirloom.  The  white 
(tuffs  worn  by  the  next  are  parts  of  a thick  shell. 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

would  not  have  missed  that  Court  of  Justice  for  anything. 
There  we  all  were,  in  a circle,  sitting  in  an  orchard  near 
the  rushing  river,  and  surrounded  by  the  great  mountains 
as  silent  witnesses  at  the  great  Court  of  Justice. 

Captain  Trench  must  have  been  very  tired  after  it  all, 
but  he  possessed  a great  heart,  and  was  always  brim- 
ming over  with  spirits  and  humour,  so  I don’t  think  he 
had  a sleepless  night.  He  had  done  an  unpleasant  duty 
uncommonly  well,  and  he  had  reason  to  be  proud  of  it. 

That  night  must  have  been  a very  unpleasant  one  for 
the  Governor,  but  it  was  also  an  exciting'  one  for  our 
camp  near  the  river,  for  we  were  wakened  by  a tremen- 
dous gale  of  wind.  We  were  all  soon  out  of  bed  trying 
to  hold  our  tents  up,  and  hang  on  to  our  property.  I 
was  myself  soon  sprawling  on  my  bed  with  my  tent  on 
the  top  of  me,  and  there  remained  until  the  wind  had 
blown  itself  out.  It  was  somewhat  annoying  to  find 
myself  defeated  in  this  manner,  but  it  had  its  amusing 
side  also. 

The  following  day  we  commenced  our  march  towards 
Leh.  Two  of  the  marches  were  overlong  and  very  hot, 
as  there  was  no  shade,  and  the  reflection  of  light  and 
refraction  of  heat  from  the  wall  of  the  rocks  we  passed 
made  it  rather  trying.  One  was  very  thankful  to  have 
dark  glasses.  We  started  at  four-thirty  punctually  every 
morning,  and  marched  till  ten  a.m.  to  some  shade,  where 
we  stayed  till  the  evening,  and  then  finished  the  march 
in  the  cool. 

It  was  an  interesting  sight  to  watch  the  caravans  from 
Central  Asia  and  China  passing,  with  the  loads  carried 
often  on  yaks,  and  some  even  on  sheep’s  backs,  the  sort 
of  sheep  which  grcnvs  a broad  fat  tail,  which  swdngs 
about  most  uncomfortably  as  the  animal  walks.  The 
idea  of  loading  sheep  is  a very  practical  one,  for  when 

207 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

the  food  which  is  carried  by  the  sheep  is  eaten  up,  then 
there  is  no  need  of  the  carrier,  so  it  is  then  eaten,  the 
fat  tail  being  considered  a great  delicacy.  Some  of  these 
caravans  are  three  years  on  the  road  before  they  reach 
their  homes.  Quite  a number  of  these  merchants  have 
been  to  Mecca,  and  were  returning,  wearing  the  green 
turban  which  is  the  mark  of  a Mecca  “ pilgrim  who 
has  accomplished  the  ‘haj.’” 

The  first  monastery  we  come  to  is  Mulbe.  It  is  in  a 
most  commanding  position,  for  it  stands  on  the  top  of 
a rock  about  five  hundred  feet  high. 

A short  distance  before  reaching  this  monastery  is 
a large  Buddha,  carved  on  a rock,  about  thirty  feet  in 
height.  On  our  return  journey  Dr  Neve  and  I came 
in  time  to  see  a very  pretty  ceremony  being  performed 
before  it. 

There  was  a sort  of  maypole  erected  in  front  of  the 
figure,  decked  with  coloured  paper  or  rags.  Then  a troop 
of  thirty  children  appeared,  dressed  in  bright  garments, 
wearing  crowns  of  flowers,  and  they  were  dancing  round 
the  pole  and  singing,  reminding  one  of  the  maypole  dance. 
Then  came  a monk,  dressed  in  a white  garment  like  a 
surplice,  with  a red  fool’s-cap  on  his  head.  In  one  hand 
he  carried  a Kashmiri  fire-pot  full  of  live  charcoal  and 
some  narcotic  mixture  of  hemp  or  opium.  These  fumes 
he  kept  inhaling,  which  made  him  become  very  excited. 
In  his  right  hand  he  carried  a curved  sword,  which  he 
flourished  about  in  a most  dangerous  manner.  He  com- 
menced to  dance  round  the  pole,  followed  by  the  children. 
He  shouted  louder  and  louder,  and  twirled  about  his  body 
faster  and  faster,  while  his  sword  was  flashing  and  slashing 
about  in  all  directions. 

A man  standing  by  me,  whom  l knew,  who  called  him- 
self a nobleman,  told  me  in  awed  tones  that  this  holy  man 

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A Trip  to  Ladakh 

was  uttering  the  words  of  God.  As  a matter  of  fact,  he 
was  drunk  with  his  opium  fumes  and  could  hardly  keep 
on  his  feet,  and  1 expect  he  soon  flopped  down  on  the 
ground,  but  we  were  unable  to  stay  to  see  the  show 
through  to  the  end. 


o 


209 


CHAPTER  XVII 


a trip  to  ladakh  ( continued. ) 

SOME  little  time  before  we  reached  Mulbe  we  had 
heard  noises  like  the  bellowings  of  the  bulls  of 
Bashan,  for  they  seemed  to  be  more  than  ordinary 
bellowings.  As  we  turned  the  corner  we  heard  other 
sounds,  such  as  the  beating  of  drums  and  cymbals 
and  squealing  flageolets,  and  then  came  into  view  the 
monastery  band.  The  monks  were  dressed  up  in  their 
best  red  garments,  with  most  curious  and  awe-inspiring 
headgear,  consisting  of  huge  red-cloth  helmet-looking 
erections  which  gave  the  band  a very  smart  and  martial 
appearance.  The  trumpets  which  bellowed  and  brayed 
so  loudly  were  of  copper,  about  seven  or  eight  feet  in 
length,  truly  colossal. 

Then  came  the  abbot  of  the  monastery  with  his 
following  of  monks,  together  with  the  great  people  of 
Mulbe,  to  welcome  the  Commissioner  Sahib.  They 
brought  presents  of  food  and  large  jugs  of  home-made 
cider,  called  “ chang.” 

At  Mulbe  there  is  an  inscription  of  King  Ides  abolish- 
ing living  sacrifices.  This  was  not,  however,  obeyed,  and 
the  people  continued  to  sacrifice  goats  before  the  pre- 
Buddhist  altars,  tearing  out  the  heart  of  the  living  animal. 
(See  Dr  E.  F.  Neve’s  book,  Beyond  the  Pir  Punjal.') 

In  the  afternoon  we  were  entertained  by  a game  of 
polo,  for  every  big  village  has  its  polo  ground,  which  is 
generally  kept  in  good  order,  the  grass  being  kept  green 
by  irrigation. 


210 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

The  chief  features  in  which  the  game  differs  from 
Western  polo  are  the  following  : — 

Firstly,  there  are  two  long  stone  walls,  about  three  feet 
high,  built  along  both  sides  of  the  ground,  against  which 
the  ball  is  made  to  rebound ; they  are  also  used,  by 
the  way,  for  squeezing  your  adversary’s  pony,  and  if 
possible  the  leg  of  the  rider,  against  the  jagged  stones,  to 
his  great  discomfort.  Secondly,  all  the  players  start  at 
a gallop  from  one  end.  The  leader  then  throws  the  ball 
into  the  air  and  strikes  it  with  the  full  swing  of  his  stick 
before  it  touches  the  ground,  frequently  driving  it  the 
whole  length  of  the  ground  and  through  the  goal-posts, 
which  are  marked  by  white  stones.  But  the  goal  is  not 
counted  unless  one  of  the  attacking  side  dismounts  and 
picks  up  the  ball  before  any  of  the  defenders  can  knock 
it  out  again.  When  the  goal  is  won  the  band  strikes  up 
a joyful  noise,  accompanied  by  plenty  of  drums.  The 
riders  play  in  a most  reckless  manner.  I have  seen  both 
ponies  and  players  receiving  terrific  whacks,  and  blood 
flowing  profusely ; and  sometimes  the  onlookers  receive 
wounds  from  standing  too  near  the  wall.  It  is  a very 
ancient  and  honoured  game  in  these  regions. 

It  is  difficult  to  describe  one’s  feelings  as  one  enters 
this  wonderful  country  of  monasteries  and  lamas,  for  one 
seems  to  have  arrived  in  quite  another  world,  unimagined 
and  undreamt  of;  one  feels  inclined  to  pinch  oneself  to 
see  if  one  is  really  awake  and  not  dreaming. 

On  the  road  one  passes  walls  from  ioo  to  300  yards 
long,  about  eight  feet  high  and  eight  feet  broad,  with  a 
pent  roof  of  flat  stones  of  all  sizes,  on  which  are  carved 
the  same  words,  “ Om  mane  padme  hun,”  which  means, 
“ O God  of  the  Jewel  on  the  Lotus,”  or,  as  it  has  been 
interpreted  to  me : “ May  my  soul,  O God,  be  like  the 
jewel  of  water  which  lies  on  the  lips  of  the  lotus  leaf  just 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

as  it  is  going  to  fall  into  the  lake  and  be  lost  in  the  ocean 
of  water  [/.  e.  be  lost  in  Nirvana].” 

Monks  roam  over  the  country  doing  this  pious  carving 
work  for  those  who  will  pay  them.  Merit  not  only  comes 
to  the  men  who  place  these  stones  on  the  wall,  but  to  all 
those  travellers  who  pass  on  the  left  side  of  the  wall,  and 
curses  on  those  who  pass  on  the  wrong  side.  Hence  there 
is  no  need  of  a policeman  to  tell  all  traffic  to  keep  to  the 
left ; all  travellers  do  it  as  if  mechanically,  and  heap  up  to 
themselves  merit. 

Then  on  the  road  one  continually  passes  “chortans,” 
stone  pagodas  generally  white- washed,  and  not  only  on 
the  road,  but  dotted  about  in  the  fields  and  up  the 
mountain-sides.  They  are  of  all  sizes  from  three  to 
forty  feet  high.  They  are  hollow,  and  in  them  one  will 
often  find  clay  medallions  vulgarly  called  potted  lamas, 
for  they  are  composed  of  the  ashes  of  the  monks,  w'hich 
have  been  stamped  with  the  monastery  stamps,  not  unlike 
prettily  stamped  pats  of  butter.  Some  of  the  stamps  are 
very  decorative,  generally  with  the  figure  of  Buddha  in 
the  centre  of  a circle,  with  writing  around. 

On  the  tops  of  the  houses  and  on  trees  one  sees 
bunches  of  flags  made  of  coloured  rags  on  which  is 
inscribed  this  same  prayer.  When  the  flags  flutter  in  the 
breeze  this  prayer  ascends  for  the  good  of  the  individual 
who  placed  these  rags  to  be  moved  by  the  wind. 

As  we  pass  through  a village  we  see  little  paper  wind- 
mills on  the  roofs  which  work  a prayer  wheel  inside  the 
house.  This  is  a metal  cylinder  crammed  full  of  paper 
on  which  is  written  hundreds  of  times  this  one  prayer: 
“ Om  mane  padme  hun.” 

Along  the  walls  of  certain  houses  and  always  at  the 
monasteries  are  found  these  cylinders  of  wood  let  into 
the  wall  at  a convenient  height  from  the  ground  to  allow' 


212 


■ L_ 


'l'HE  BVPDHJST  ABBOT  ANP  His  Chelas  qr  Purjls, 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

passers-by  to  pat  them  and  make  them  revolve.  In 
some  villages  they  have  huge  prayer  wheels  worked  by 
water,  which  pray  automatically  night  and  day,  year  in 
and  year  out  for  all  the  village.  Lastly,  you  meet  both 
men  and  women  walking  on  the  road  carrying  these 
wheels  of  metal,  which  they  keep  on  the  spin  by  the 
twist  of  the  wrist,  for  a lead  ball  is  attached  to  this 
cylinder  by  a metal  chain,  which  adds  considerable 
momentum.  Some  of  these  hand  prayer  wheels  are 
beautifully  ornamented  with  silverwork. 

The  people  one  meets  are  most  picturesquely  dressed. 
The  men  and  the  women  wear  a long  woollen  garment 
generally  of  red,  but  often  of  green  or  some  other 
colour.  The  men  have  a leather  girdle  into  which 
they  stick  a regular  ironmonger’s  shop  of  goods,  such 
as  one  or  two  knives,  a brass  opium  pipe,  a tinder-box, 
a metal  purse,  a long  metal  pen-box  with  metal  inkpot 
attached,  a whip  of  three  thongs,  the  handle  of  which  is 
always  highly  decorated  with  metal  and  paint,  a cup 
for  their  tea  and  their  porridge,  and  a bag  of  flour  for 
their  food  on  their  journeys.  The  food  is  always  most 
simple.  They  fill  their  cup  with  cold  water,  and  then 
pour  the  flour  into  it  and  stir  it  with  their  first  finger, 
and  when  it  becomes  a sort  of  watery  paste  they  drink  it. 
A most  unappetising  food  it  is,  and  gives  them  indiges- 
tion continually.  Most  of  them  also  add  an  ikon  to  their 
belt  collection.  It  is  an  image  of  Buddha  of  silver  or 
gold  in  a casket  of  some  metal,  and  a pocket  Communion 
set  of  copper  or  silver  with  much  ornamentation. 

The  Tibetan  Buddhists  have  a religious  service  in 
which  they  use  bread  and  cider.  It  is  said  that  this 
religious  service  came  from  China  through  the  Nestorian 
Christians,  for  there  is  a tradition  that  St  Thomas 
introduced  Christianity  into  China. 

213 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

This  pocket  set  is  a most  neat  and  clever  arrangement, 
for  the  paten  and  stand  are  so  made  that  they  fit  beauti- 
fully into  the  metal  pot  which  is  the  chalice.  Every 
Buddhist  can  be  his  own  priest  and  give  the  Elements 
to  himself. 

Many  wear  a chatelaine  attached  to  their  leather  belt, 
on  which  hang  most  of  the  things  mentioned,  and  thus 
their  belt  is  left  free  for  other  goods  and  chattels.  Their 
shoes  are  generally  felt  top-boots,  often  of  gaudy  colours. 

The  head-dress  is  a cloth  cap,  not  infrequently  of  the 
same  colour  as  their  dress,  but  I am  not  able  to  describe 
it  as  I have  never  seen  anything  like  it;  it  is  perhaps  a 
little  like  a Balaclava  cap  or  a helmet  with  flaps.  It  is 
most  picturesque  and  odd-looking.  The  whole  costume 
seems  to  suit  the  Mongol  features  excellently,  especially 
with  the  long  pigtail  hanging  down  the  back,  which 
always  covers  the  back  of  the  cloak  with  black  grease. 
The  women  dress  much  like  the  men,  only  their  head-dress 
is  different.  They  wear  a “ pirak  ” — that  is,  a piece  of  red 
cloth  about  six  or  eight  inches  wide,  which  starts  from 
the  forehead  and  continues  down  the  back  nearly  to  the 
waist.  It  is  covered  with  rows  of  precious  stones,  chiefly 
rough  pieces  of  turquoise,  and  silver  ornaments.  This 
system  of  carrying  their  wealth  on  their  heads  shows 
how  honest  these  people  are.  Then  on  each  side  of 
the  face,  and  sewn  on  to  this  strip  of  cloth,  are  two 
pieces  of  astrakhan,  which  are  made  to  stick  out  at  right 
angles  to  the  face  some  six  inches,  like  black  wings. 
Altogether  it  is  most  becoming. 

The  women  in  this  country  are  not  “ purdah,”  and  are 
treated  on  equal  terms  with  the  men.  It  is  most  refresh- 
ing. They  are  not  the  least  shy  or  bold.  They  are 
just  their  smiling  jolly  selves,  like  their  menfolk. 

I have  mentioned  a few  pages  previously  that  on  enter- 

214 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

ing  Ladakh  one  seemed  to  be  in  a dream,  for  the  country 
and  people  were  so  utterly  unlike  anything  I had  imagined 
or  dreamt  of ; and  it  was  not  only  the  people  and  the 
buildings  near  at  hand,  but  the  hills  all  round  seemed 
to  be  quite  in  keeping.  It  is  the  lamas’  custom  to  build 
their  monasteries  on  the  top  of  the  rocks,  so  that  it  is 
often  hard  to  distinguish  monastery  from  rock  or  rock 
from  monastery.  Then  again,  the  air  being  rarer  than 
one  is  accustomed  to,  every  object  seems  to  be  nearer 
than  it  really  is.  The  hills  and  precipices,  which  are 
absolutely  bare  of  trees  or  grass,  take  on  most  beautiful 
colours,  and  the  lights  and  shadows  are  far  more  marked 
than  one  has  been  accustomed  to  see. 


215 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


a trip  to  ladakh  ( continued ) 

LET  us  now  visit  a monastery.  As  usual,  as  we 
approached  Lamauru,  we  were  met  by  much 
noise  and  dust.  The  monastery  band  evidently 
was  on  the  war-path,  from  the  terrific  braying  and  tom- 
tomming  that  greeted  us,  and  the  crowd  of  monastery 
dignitaries  and  village  magnates  kicked  up  much  dust  as 
they  approached.  We  were  taken  round  the  monastery 
by  the  head  ecclesiastic.  We  climbed  the  stone  stairway 
to  the  monastery,  which,  as  usual,  was  situated  on  the 
top  of  a cliff,  built  on  to  and  into  it  in  such  a way  that 
it  was  not  easy  to  see  where  rock  ended  and  the  building 
commenced.  Along  the  side  of  the  stairway  were  rows 
of  prayer  wheels  let  into  the  wall,  which  we  set  spinning 
in  the  orthodox  manner.  At  least  I hope  we  did  spin 
them  the  right  and  not  the  wrong  way.  I think  we 
must  have  spun  them  round  the  right  way,  for  our 
journey  was  prosperous.  The  chapel  was  full  of  inter- 
esting objects,  and  one  did  not  know  quite  what  to  look 
at,  for  there  seemed  to  be,  and  there  was,  such  a crowd 
of  interesting  objects  which  I had  never  seen  before. 
The  building  was  like  a hall,  the  roof  supported  by 
wooden  pillars,  with  a gallery  all  round,  from  which 
hung  a profusion  of  silk  banners  of  Chinese  design, 
chiefly  dragons.  On  one  side  of  the  hall  was  a row  of 
coloured  figures,  life-size,  of  Buddha  and  sainted  lamas, 
which  were  arrayed  in  rich  silks.  Before  each  figure 
was  a table  or  altar  of  very  curious  design,  coloured  with 

216 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

bright  red,  green,  yellow  and  gold,  carved  with  dragons 
and  sacred  symbols. 

On  the  tables  were  metal  cups  and  goblets,  and  on 
each  table  was  a basin  of  holy  water,  an  oil  lamp  burning, 
the  chalice  for  the  “ cliang  ” (cider)  and  paten  for  the 
bread,  a “dorje”  (a  prettily  carved  brass  or  silver  dumb- 
bell-looking article  used  by  the  priest  during  part  of  the 
service),  also  a little  drum  often  made  of  a human  skull 
sawn  off  at  the  top  to  allow  for  the  skin  to  be  stretched. 
There  were  also  some  goblets  made  of  human  skulls,  and 
a human  thigh-bone  used  as  a trumpet. 

Down  the  middle  of  the  chapel  are  low  benches  in  lines, 
end  on  to  the  row  of  figures,  on  which  the  monks  kneel 
facing  the  altars  as  they  read  their  sacred  books.  On 
the  left  side  of  the  chapel  are  rows  of  copper  beakers 
full  of  cliang,  from  which  the  monks  refresh  themselves 
when  they  become  sleepy  over  their  much  reading.  Then 
on  the  left  wall  are  shelves  in  which  their  books  are 
kept.  These  are  long  strips  of  paper  or  parchment 
manuscripts. 

There  are  five  chapels  kept  each  day.  When  any 
great  person  dies  the  monks  are  paid  to  read  through 
a certain  number  of  their  holy  books.  They  each  take 
so  many  pages,  and  read  through  them  aloud,  all  together, 
each  one  reading  something  different,  so  there  must  be 
a fair  volume  of  sound.  I do  not  know  if  volume  of 
sound  has  any  value  and  so  adds  to  the  merit  of  reading 
so  many  thousands  of  words. 

These  people  have  evidently  thought  out  a truly 
mechanical  way  to  salvation.  When  electric  power 
reaches  Ladakh  and  prayer  wheels  are  worked  by  motors, 
merit  will  speed  up  a great  deal  and  Nirvana  will  be 
within  reach  of  all.  The  chapel  needed  much  cleaning. 
There  was  an  overwhelming  smell  of  lamp  oil,  or  burning 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

fat ; grease  pervaded  the  atmosphere,  in  fact  everything 
the  monks  touched,  for  they  were  filthily  dirty,  their 
red  garments  being  more  or  less  black  with  grease. 
Fortunately  their  heads  were  shorn.  They  seemed  to  be 
a happy  lot  of  brothers,  always  ready  to  laugh  and  joke, 
in  fact,  just  like  the  pictures  of  the  monks  of  the  West 
in  days  gone  by. 

There  are  nuns  who  live  in  separate  buildings.  Many 
of  them  are  so  like  the  monks  that  it  is  difficult  to  tell 
one  from  the  other,  at  least  to  an  unpractised  eye,  as  the 
following  incident  will  show. 

A few  days  later  I was  in  Leh  with  Dr  Neve.  He 
was  in  the  hospital  helping  people  to  get  well  quickly. 
I stayed  outside  to  try  and  cheer  up  the  patients  who 
were  waiting  their  turn  outside,  as  many  of  them  seemed 
to  be  rather  nervous  and  frightened.  I noticed  one 
person  who  seemed  to  look  very  depressed,  who  1 thought 
was  a monk  and  not  living  up  to  his  usual  jovial  self,  so 
I poked  him  in  the  ribs  and  told  him  to  cheer  up,  when 
a voice  called  out  to  me  from  behind,  but  too  late : “ Take 
care  what  you  are  doing,  for  that  lady  is  a nun.”  It  was 
a Moravian  missionary  who  spoke  too  late.  Well,  I did 
all  that  an  English  gentleman  could  do.  I apologised 
most  humbly,  but  the  nun  would  not  have  any,  and  I 
failed  to  cheer  her  up. 

Well,  our  triumphal  march  to  the  capital,  Leh  (a  town 
with  a population  of  3000  in  the  winter,  which  grows  to 
6000  in  the  summer,  when  all  the  traders  from  east  and 
west  come  in),  was  as  entertaining  as  it  was  interesting. 
Monastery  bands,  town  bands,  feasts  and  polo  matches 
succeeded  one  another,  but  the  reception  given  to  the 
Commissioner  Sahib  at  Leh  was  the  culmination  of  great 
doings.  Seven  miles  from  Leh,  in  the  valley  of  the  Indus, 
a large  sandy  plain,  there  met  us  a great  cavalcade  of 

218 


The  air  being  very  clear  and  dry  here  11,000  feet  above  sea  level,  the  distance  of  any  object  from  the  traveller  is  diliietilt  gang. 

This  scene  should  be  visualised  in  shades  of  pink  and  yellow  with  deep  dark  shadows,  the  only  green  being  that  of  the  willows. 


a. 


The  foundation  of  a garden  is  waterweeds,  grass  and  mud  tangled  together  and  anchored  or  pinned  by  a stake  driven  through 
it  to  the  bottom  of  the  lake.  Melons,  cucumbers  and  tomatoes  are  readily  grown  on  the  rich  mud  beds. 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

grand  folk  dressed  in  most  weird  costumes,  uncommonly 
like  a well-got-up  pantomime. 

There  were  men  dressed  in  Chinese  silks,  with  their 
smart  blue  and  gold  caps  with  tassels,  Ladakhi  officials 
of  various  grades,  from  the  Joint-Commissioner,  a fine- 
looking  Mohammedan,  to  his  fat  babu  who  sat  on  his 
pony  like  a monkey,  his  stirrups  being  so  short  that  his 
knees  and  fat  stomach  met.  But  the  figure  which  took 
my  fancy  was  the  church  dignitary ; he  resembled  for  all 
the  world  Cardinal  Wolsey  risen  from  the  dead.  He 
wore  a scarlet  cloak  which  fell  over  the  pony’s  back  and 
almost  touched  the  ground,  and  he  sported  ye  old 
cardinal’s  hat.  I never  saw  him  smile,  which  was  in 
contrast  to  all  the  others,  who  seemed  to  be  out  for  a 
holiday.  Whether  he  was  upset  about  not  having  his 
proper  position  in  the  cavalcade,  or  whether  he  had  the 
stomach-ache  is  uncertain,  or  maybe  his  cardinal’s  hat 
was  uncomfortable.  It  certainly  was  hardly  the  sort  of 
hat  I should  have  chosen  to  ride  in.  Perhaps  his  dignity 
did  not  allow  him  to  show  his  feelings.  Anyway,  every- 
body except  the  cardinal  seemed  to  be  in  good  fettle 
after  their  morning’s  ride.  We  all  fell  into  some  sort  of 
order  and  rode  for  the  capital. 

You  can  see  Leh  from  some  miles  distant  as  it  is 
built  up  the  side  of  the  rocks,  with  the  palace  and 
monastery  towering  above.  Leh  is  11,700  feet  above 
sea-level,  so  one  needs  a little  time  in  which  to  get 
acclimatised. 

When  we  arrived  through  the  fine  gateway  into  the 
main  street  we  found  both  sides  lined  with  H.H.  the 
Maharajah’s  troops  and  the  crowds  of  citizens  behind  them. 
The  monastery  band  was  in  full  view  on  the  roof  of  one 
of  the  buildings  and  made  the  usual  joyful  sound.  This 
main  street  of  shops  has  a fine  avenue  of  poplar-trees, 

219 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

which  gives  most  grateful  shade  in  the  hot  summer 
weather. 

As  it  is  very  broad,  it  is  the  polo  ground.  It  seemed 
most  strange  to  see  the  players  dashing  up  and  down 
the  main  street,  often  hitting  the  ball  into  the  shops. 
Fortunately  the  shops  in  Leh  do  not  possess  glass 
windows,  otherwise  polo  in  that  street  would  be  an 
expensive  amusement. 

Captain  Trench  was  finally  escorted  to  the  Residency, 
which  was  a two-storeyed  stone  building  in  quite  a nice 
garden.  There  is  not  a great  selection  of  trees  in  Leh, 
poplars  and  willows  being  all  that  I remember  seeing 
in  this  part  of  Ladakh,  but  in  lower  Ladakh  there  are 
apricot,  apple  and  pear  trees. 

The  Commissioner’s  chief  duty  is  to  look  after  the 
traders’  interests  on  this  main  caravan  road  from  India  to 
Central  Asia,  Yarkand,  Turkestan  and  to  China. 

I went  to  the  Moravian  missionaries,  who  had  kindly 
invited  Dr  E.  F.  Neve  and  myself  to  stay  with  them. 
They  have  been  doing  a great  and  useful  work  here  for 
many  years,  by  means  of  hospital,  schools,  and  visiting 
the  people  in  their  homes.  They  had  then  a congregation 
of  about  thirty  Christians. 

The  history  of  one  of  them  with  whom  I was  connected 
for  some  years  is  interesting.  A certain  monk  in  a 
monastery  in  Nubra  was  dying,  and  he  sent  for  one  of 
the  missionaries  whom  he  knew  to  visit  him.  Nubra 
Valley  is  some  fifty  miles  from  Leh  over  the  other  side  of 
the  Kardang  Pass,  17,400  feet  high. 

The  missionary  went  at  once,  and  was  in  time  to  see 
him  before  he  died.  The  monk  told  him  that  he  heard 
the  Gospel  through  the  preaching  of  the  missionaries,  and 
believed  in  Christ  as  his  Saviour,  but  had  not  been  bold 
enough  to  confess  openly  on  account  of  the  persecution 


220 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

which  would  follow,  but  as  he  had  failed  to  do  the  first 
thing  he  would  do  the  second,  and  that  was  to  give  his 
son  to  the  missionaries  to  be  brought  up  a Christian.  The 
monk  passed  away  like  the  dew  drop  off  the  lotus  leaf, 
let  us  hope,  and  his  son  was  taken  to  the  mission  at  Leh, 
and  remained  with  them  until  the  age  of  fourteen,  when 
he  was  sent  to  the  Mission  School  at  Srinagar.  The 
missionaries  took  the  opportunity  of  some  friendly 
Tibetans  going  down  to  Srinagar  on  business  and  de- 
livered Joseph,  for  that  was  his  Christian  name,  to  their 
safe  keeping.  I remember  the  interest  and  pleasure  it 
was  to  welcome  this  quiet  and  stolid  Ladakhi  to  the 
school.  He  arrived  in  his  Tibetan  costume,  looking  most 
quaint,  for  I had  seen  few  Tibetans  up  to  that  time.  I 
am  glad  to  say  he  was  proud  of  his  national  dress  and 
wore  it  all  the  time  he  was  at  school. 

Joseph  had  a hard  time  of  it  among  the  Brahman  boys, 
who  laughed  at  his  dress,  which,  as  a matter  of  fact,  was 
far  more  becoming  than  theirs,  and  also  tormented  him  on 
the  quiet  because  he  was  a Christian. 

Joseph  never  allowed  himself  to  be  drawn  by  his  tor- 
mentors, he  never  retaliated,  nor  did  he  show  the  least 
fear  of  them,  but  I did  not  see  why  his  persecutors 
should  have  it  all  their  own  way.  I believe  in  a boy 
managing  his  own  affairs  among  the  boys  without  help 
from  outside  if  possible,  so  I set  to  wrork  to  teach  him 
to  box.  He  became  an  apt  pupil,  as  he  started  fair,  with- 
out any  lee-way  to  make  up  in  the  matter  of  cowardice 
or  weakness  of  any  kind,  so  in  a short  time  he  became 
thoroughly  respected,  notwithstanding  the  difference  in 
religion  or  dress,  and  before  he  left  school  was  the  most 
respected  and,  I might  say,  popular  boy  in  the  school. 
As  he  was  preparing  to  return  to  his  own  country,  I 
asked  him  what  profession  he  would  choose.  Would  he 


221 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

care  to  join  the  State  service,  as  very  few  Ladakhis  were 
educated  and  all  posts  were  filled  by  Kashmiri  Brahmans 
and  Indians?  It  would  be  good  for  the  country  if  some 
of  these  officials  were  natives  of  Ladakh.  I pointed  out 
that  if  he  took  that  line  he  would  have  power  and  in- 
fluence later  on,  which  he  could  put  to  good  use.  His 
answer  was : “ I do  not  want  power  or  riches.  All  I want 
is  that  I may  have  opportunities  of  preaching  Christ  to 
my  people.  I would  prefer  to  be  a missionary.” 

He  returned  to  Leh,  and  in  course  of  time  became 
headmaster  of  the  Mission  School,  which  post  he  has  held 
for  many  years,  where  he  is  training  his  own  country- 
men, and  preaching  Christ  to  them  by  life  as  well  as  by 
words.  I am  glad  to  say  that  his  education  has  not  given 
him  any  ideas  of  being  a babu,  and  therefore  too  much 
of  a gentleman  to  do  manual  labour,  for  in  the  vacations 
he  is  to  be  seen  driving  his  yoke  of  oxen  and  carrying 
manure  on  his  back  in  a basket  very  similar  to  those  used 
in  Switzerland  for  the  same  purpose.  His  education  has 
not  unmanned  him,  as  it  has  done  so  many  in  Kashmir  and 
India. 

So  the  dying  monk  in  the  monastery  at  Nubra  did  well 
for  his  country,  though  it  seems  odd  to  those  who  do 
not  know  the  way  of  monks  that  they  should  have  sons 
to  bequeath. 

The  mission  at  Leh  has  been  blessed  with  some  very 
fine  missionaries.  They  have  to  be  a very  whole-hearted 
lot,  for  their  pay  is  a mere  pittance,  and  until  lately  they 
did  not  return  home  on  furlough,  but  died  at  their  post 
like  Dr  Marks  and  Dr  Redslop,  but  I am  glad  to  say  that 
in  these  days  there  is  a wiser  and  more  humane  policy, 
for  surely  it  is  wiser  that  a missionary’s  life  should  be 
lengthened  by  periods  of  rest  than  that  he  should  live  a 
short  time  and  have  to  be  replaced  by  a novice.  It  is 


222 


A polo  match  is  in  progress,  therefore  the  street  has  been  clearer1, 


Photo  by] 


Wishu  Nath. 


A Winter  Scene. 


Down  cither  bank  of  the  river  are  boats  lived  in  as  to  half  their  accommodation  by 
whole  families  (of  two  or  three  generations),  with  cocks  and  hens  and  sometimes  a goat  or  a 
cow.  and  used  as  to  the  rest  for  stores  of  unhusked  rice  or  firewood. 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

more  humane  in  that  parents  may  be  permitted  to  see 
their  children  now  and  again,  whom  they  have  sent  to 
school  in  the  Homeland.  The  missions  in  Srinagar  and 
Leh  are  able  to  help  one  another  in  various  ways. 
During  the  war  Dr  and  Mrs  Heber  were  able  to  come 
to  the  help  of  the  Srinagar  Mission  Hospital  at  a time 
of  need,  and  much  were  their  services  and  presence 
appreciated. 

Outside  the  town  in  the  waste  of  sand  is  a little  oasis ; 
it  is  the  Christian  cemetery,  in  which  lies,  among  other 
honoured  remains,  the  body  of  Miss  Irene  Petrie,  a most 
gifted  missionary,  who  compressed  into  the  short  space 
of  three  years  a most  marvellous  amount  of  living  work 
among  the  women  and  children  of  Srinagar.  She  came 
up  to  Ladakh  on  her  much-needed  holiday,  and  passed 
away  shortly  after  her  arrival  at  Leh  from  typhoid  fever, 
which  she  had  contracted  in  Srinagar.  Her  sister,  Mrs 
Ashley  Carus-Wilson,  has  written  her  life,  which  is  well 
worth  reading,  as  it  tells  of  a beautiful  life  spent  in  the 
highest  service. 

I had  heard  a good  deal  about  the  Kardang  Pass  of 
17,400  feet,  some  miles  from  Leh,  the  one  on  which 
there  is  so  much  loss  of  life  of  luggage  animals.  The 
air  is  so  rare  that  the  pony  and  donkey  men  often  slit 
up  the  noses  of  their  animals  to  allow  of  easier  breathing. 
The  traders  use  yaks  to  a great  extent  on  this  pass, 
which  they  ride  to  save  themselves  from  mountain 
sickness. 

As  the  sun  was  so  hot  I chose  the  night  for  my  trip, 
and  started  at  eight  p.m.  on  my  pony,  as  a yak  would 
be  too  slow,  with  a mounted  Ladakhi  guide.  At  twelve 
o’clock  my  guide  disappeared  ; I did  not  see  which  way  he 
went,  and  it  was  too  dark  to  find  any  path,  so  I dismounted 
so  that  my  eyes  might  be  nearer  the  ground.  The  pony 

223 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

did  not  feel  inclined  to  move,  so  I tied  him  to  a rock  and 
went  off  in  search  of  some  landmark,  for  I seemed  to 
have  reached  the  top  of  the  ridge.  However,  I soon 
found  I could  not  walk  more  than  twenty  paces  at  a time, 
and  a most  splitting  headache  came  on.  It  felt  as  if 
my  head  blood  vessels  would  burst,  and  I had  mal  de 
montagne  properly.  After  wandering  about  aimlessly  I 
became  aware  I was  up  against  a precipice.  When  the 
moon  rose  it  was  now  one  a.m.,  and  then  I saw  I was 
under  the  foot  of  a glacier,  a great  cliff  of  ice  over 
seventy  feet  high,  which  seemed  to  bulge  out  at  the 
top  like  the  curve  of  a huge  breaker.  It  was  very 
impressive,  and  for  the  moment  I forgot  my  headache. 

I had  meant  to  stay  on  the  pass  to  see  the  sunrise,  but 
my  powers  of  endurance  gave  out.  My  one  desire  was  to 
get  down  the  mountain,  where  I could  breathe  in  comfort, 
so  I descended  to  the  rock  where  I had  left  my  pony,  and 
I soon  began  to  recover  my  equilibrium  as  I descended. 
When  I returned  to  Leh  I made  inquiries  after  my  guide, 
but  I never  discovered  what  happened  to  him  and  there- 
fore never  knew  why  he  gave  me  the  slip. 

About  twenty  miles  from  Leh  is  a very  large  and 
important  monastery  called  Hemis,  and  once  in  every 
twenty  years  they  have  an  especially  important  religious 
play,  so  Dr  Neve  and  I hired  ponies  and  joined  the  happy 
throng  of  pilgrims. 

It  was  an  interesting  and  amusing  sight  to  see  people 
of  all  classes  making  their  way  on  foot  and  horseback  to 
this  far-famed  monastery.  On  several  ponies  were  two 
riders,  the  man  in  front  and  his  lady  behind.  As  polyandry 
is  the  custom  in  Ladakh,  the  wife  is  therefore  the  lord 
and  master,  so  one  expected  to  see  the  lady  riding  in  front 
and  one  or  more  husbands  riding  pillion,  for  we  often  saw 
three  passengers  riding  one  horse.  We  passed  two  ladies 

224 


Note  the  resemblance  to  Chinese  rather  than  to  Indian  decoration  and  design  in  these  figures. 


Photo  by  Commander]  [£.  C.  Tyndale-Biscoe , R.N. 

(1)  The  Frances  Aberigh  Mackay  Memorial  School  for  Girls. 

(2)  Men  in  the  Making. 


This  illustrates  the  great  change  which  has  come  over  the  youth  of  Kashmir  who  had  hitherto 
been  taught  that  strenuous  action  was  11  bad  form.” 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

riding  on  the  same  pony,  an  old  lady  and  a pretty,  rosy- 
cheeked  damsel,  and  they  smiled  and  nodded  to  us  as  we 
passed  them.  We  thought  they  must  be  very  up-to-date 
women,  when  all  of  a sudden  we  remembered  that  they 
had  been  our  hostesses  some  days  previously,  for  a certain 
Tibetan  nobleman  and  his  wife  and  daughter  had  enter- 
tained us  at  tea.  But  there  was  good  reason  for  our  not 
recognising  them,  for  it  is  the  custom  for  all  respectable 
ladies  to  cover  their  faces  with  mud,  so  that  these  noble 
ladies  with  whom  we  drank  tea  were  brown  with  mud, 
w:hilst  these  smiling  ladies  on  horseback  had  beautiful 
rosy  cheeks.  Apparently  when  on  a pilgrimage  they  need 
not  wear  this  unbecoming  veil  of  mud. 

It  took  us  two  days  to  reach  Hemis.  The  monastery 
is  situated  in  a very  narrow  valley  on  the  side  of  a 
mountain  and  not  on  the  top  as  is  usually  the  case,  and 
to  this  fact,  I am  told,  the  monastery  owes  its  escape 
from  plunder  when  the  country  was  invaded  by  Sikhs. 
This  monastery  is  a very  rich  one  and  possesses  stores 
of  rich  Chinese  silks  and  jewels.  The  abbot  showed  us 
a great  many  of  his  treasures. 

The  play  took  place  in  a very  fine  courtyard,  the 
monastery  towering  above  one  like  a huge  castle,  a very 
impressive  building.  It  contains  three  hundred  monks, 
who  w'ear  yellow  robes  and  are  superior  to  the  red-robed 
ones.  The  play  lasts  for  the  whole  of  one  day  and  till 
noon  on  the  second  day,  with  no  interlude,  and  is  weary- 
ing to  a degree.  The  idea  of  the  play  is  to  teach  the 
people  the  power  of  the  monks  in  future  life.  They  act 
all  the  known,  or  rather  unknown,  horrors  of  hell  and  the 
only  wray  of  salvation  through  the  holiness  of  the  monks. 
Not  a word  is  spoken ; it  is  taught  entirely  by  sight. 

The  acting  is  guided  by  the  monastery  band  as  to  time, 
fervour,  quietness,  tempest,  hell  fire  or  death.  The  band 

225 


p 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

is  directed  by  the  precentor,  and  he  by  a big  book  in 
front  of  him.  There  is  a fire  burning  in  the  centre  of 
the  court.  Then  there  enter  monks,  dressed  up  in 
hideous  masks  with  faces  of  various  animals,  such  as  dogs, 
tigers,  dragons,  etc.;  they  carry  large  three-pronged  forks, 
and  throw  a clay  figure  of  a man  into  the  flames.  The 
devils  commence  dancing  round,  pretending  to  stick  their 
forks  into  the  figure,  and  seem  to  be  enjoying  the  sport 
of  tormenting  their  victims.  This  scene  continues  for 
what  seems  to  be  an  interminable  time,  when  in  come 
a party  of  monks  from  the  great  door  of  the  monastery, 
dressed  in  coloured  silk  garments,  wearing  huge  masks, 
and  commence  to  march  round  and  round  hell  fire,  making 
various  passes  with  their  arms  towards  the  flames.  They 
begin  with  painfully  slow  steps,  which  are  so  monotonous 
that  they  get  on  one’s  nerves,  the  band  playing  softly 
but  in  terribly  slow  time. 

Then  the  music  quickens  slightly,  and  then  a little 
quicker,  then  quicker,  until  these  holy  monks  fairly  spin 
like  dancing  dervishes.  The  band  works  itself  crazy  with 
the  screeching  of  its  pipes,  crashing  cymbals,  bellowing 
giant  trumpets  and  resounding  drum.  Then  all  of 
a sudden  there  is  dead  silence,  and  we  are  all  thankful 
for  the  respite.  Then  the  whole  dance  commences  over 
again  from  the  very  beginning,  with  one  step  every  three 
seconds,  and  again  working  up  to  the  whizz-bang.  By 
this  time  this  lot  of  holy  men  are  tired  out  with  their 
exertions  and  they  disappear  through  the  same  great  door 
from  which  they  came.  Immediately  come  in  a second 
lot  with  a different  set  of  great  masks,  some  of  them 
wearing  most  benign  faces.  They  with  the  help  of  the 
band  try  their  charms  in  marching  and  dances,  and  so  one 
party  succeeds  another  all  through  that  day  and  part  of 
the  next  without  any  success,  for  the  flames  of  hell  still 

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burn  on  and  the  devils  have  it  all  their  own  way  until 
a party  of  super-holy  monks  arrive,  who  come  with  holy 
water,  with  which  they  conquer  the  flames,  and  then  the 
devils  one  and  all  rush  out  of  the  arena  amid  a tempest  of 
crashing  and  shrieking ; but  above  it  all  is  the  sound  of 
a mighty  wind  caused  by  all  the  monks  whistling  their 
loudest,  and  the  whole  band  of  devils,  pitchforks  and  all, 
disappear  into  the  monastery.  I thought  it  would  have 
been  more  impressive  if  they  had  all  disappeared  over  the 
precipice  or,  if  they  could  not  manage  that,  down  the 
rocks  out  of  sight. 

Well,  we  were  mighty  glad  to  see  the  last  of  these 
devils,  and  the  blessed  monks  also,  for  our  nerves  were 
anyhow  after  all  we  had  heard  and  seen,  but  all  was  not 
over,  for  the  people  were  to  see  the  priest  perform  a sort 
of  high  mass.  In  an  open  space  rigged  up  as  a chapel 
facing  the  courtyard  which  all  could  see  was  an  altar 
with  its  usual  complement  of  ornaments,  lamps,  holy 
water,  chalice  and  paten. 

The  priest  entered  wearing  a garment  just  like  a 
surplice.  He  turned  his  back  to  the  congregation  and 
commenced  his  service  at  the  altar. 

Presently  in  came  stealthily  a clown  with  a coloured 
bladder  in  his  hand  with  which  he  hit  the  priest  over  the 
head  with  a mighty  whack  and  then  darted  behind  a 
pillar  and  hid.  Then  again  he  crept  up  behind,  stalking 
the  priest,  and  dealt  him  another  blow ; but  still  the  priest 
took  no  notice,  so  absorbed  was  he  in  his  devotions. 
After  another  blow  or  two  the  priest  looked  round  to 
see  whence  the  blows  had  come,  but  of  course  he  looked 
in  the  wrong  direction,  and  the  clown  cocked  a snook  at 
him,  a real  gutter-snipe  snook,  from  behind  the  pillar.  It 
was  all  so  like  a Western  pantomime  that  we  could 
hardly  believe  we  were  watching  a real  Buddhist  religious 

227 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

ceremony  in  a real  monastery.  The  people  all  round 
were  thoroughly  enjoying  the  play  and  were  laughing 
heartily. 

I could  not  find  out  the  reason  for  this  last  act,  but  I 
suppose  it  was  to  show  that  the  monks  when  engaged  in 
their  religious  duties  were  too  deeply  engrossed  to  be 
disturbed  by  assaults  of  the  devils.  Well,  it  was  a great 
show,  and  one  wondered  how  much  of  it  was  believed 
by  the  people  who  had  come  from  such  long  distances  to 
see  their  religion  acted. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  they  were  too  jolly  and  cheery  a 
lot  to  believe  much  in  devils ; they  evidently  saw  the 
humour  of  it  all.  The  abbot  of  the  monastery  told  us 
that  the  monks  had  been  practising  for  a whole  year  at 
the  play,  and  showed  us  the  rod  of  correction  which  he 
used  on  those  monks  who  failed  in  their  parts.  It  was  a 
thick  black  stick  weighted  writh  brass.  I felt  sorry  for 
those  monks  who  did  not  live  up  to  the  form  of  Friar 
Tuck,  and  had  not  a good  cushion  of  fat  to  protect  their 
bones  when  the  brass  stick  descended.  But  perhaps  they 
knew  the  schoolboy’s  copy-book  trick. 

The  great  monastery  mastiffs  interested  us,  but  we 
were  thankful  that  they  were  chained.  We  were  told 
that  the  dogs  used  to  be  kept  in  lieu  of  graves  for  the 
monks,  or,  in  other  words,  to  eat  up  the  dead  members 
of  the  brotherhood. 

Some  of  them  are  very  savage  brutes.  A friend  of 
mine  who  was  attacked  by  one  had  a bad  time,  although 
he  himself  was  an  athlete ; he  was  obliged  to  go  to  bed 
for  a day  or  two  after  the  attack.  I myself  had  a narrow 
shave  one  day.  I went  into  a monastery  uninvited  to 
have  a look  round.  When  coming  through  a very  narrow 
passage  I saw  one  of  these  dogs  fast  asleep,  as  1 imagined, 
and  foolishly  thought  I could  pass  him  if  I walked 

228 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

delicately.  But  no  such  thing.  The  sleeping  dog  was 
very  much  awake,  and  unfortunately  was  not  chained  and 
came  for  me  at  once.  I fortunately  had  an  alpenstock 
in  my  hand,  which  1 immediately  presented  to  his  open 
mouth;  but  the  passage  we  were  in  being  narrow,  I had 
no  spare  room  for  wielding  my  weapon.  I of  course 
stood  perfectly  still,  and  then  commenced  to  back  slowly. 
The  beast  followed  me  inch  by  inch  as  I retreated  inch 
by  inch,  with  the  point  of  my  stick  ready  to  jab  in  his 
mouth.  That  mastiff  sawr  me  off  those  premises  all  right, 
and  I was  glad  to  have  got  clear  without  damage.  It 
taught  me  to  be  careful  when  visiting  my  clerical  brethren 
in  their  religious  houses. 

We  had  now'  to  turn  our  faces  towards  Leh  and  then 
to  Srinagar.  At  Hemis  w'e  bade  farewell  to  Phelps  and 
Church,  who  started  off  on  their  long  trail  for  the  Tibetan 
plateau  in  search  of  their  big  game,  ovis  ammon  and  ovis 
poli. 

We  reached  Leh  on  the  second  day,  w'here  we  bade 
our  kind  friends  the  Commissioner  and  missionaries  good- 
bye and  started  on  our  way  west. 

At  the  stages  we  alw'ays  preferred  to  pitch  our  tents 
and  sleep  in  them  rather  than  face  the  champion  hoppers 
in  the  dak  bungalow's.  At  one  of  the  stages  a young 
officer  asked  us  to  dine  w'ith  him,  and  Neve  noticed  that 
he  had  some  plate  belonging  to  himself.  This  curious 
phenomenon  w'as  not  difficult  to  explain,  as  this  officer 
had  been  a guest  in  Dr  Neve’s  house  and  so  had  his 
servant,  and  the  servant  in  the  interests  of  his  master 
had  annexed  the  said  articles,  thinking  it  would  be  more 
w'orthy  of  his  master  than  that  which  his  master 
possessed.  This  is  not  an  uncommon  custom  of  servants 
who  visit  houses  with  masters  w'ho  do  not  know  of  this 
custom,  and  do  not  overhaul  their  property  before  leaving 

229 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

a friend’s  house.  Personally  I possess  a bearer  who 
knows  this  trick,  and  he  always  asks  me  to  ask  my  friends 
to  allow  their  servants  to  count  over  the  spoons  and 
forks,  etc.,  before  leaving  the  house,  to  see,  of  course,  that 
they  have  not  left  anything  of  their  master’s  property 
behind. 

Another  custom  I discovered  of  quite  a different  kind, 
which  interested  me. 

I saw  a coolie  sprawling  on  the  road  with  his  mouth  on 
the  ground  and  apparently  blowing  smoke.  On  asking 
what  it  meant  I was  told  that  the  man  not  having  brought 
his  hookah  was  not  going  to  be  done  out  of  his  smoke. 
He  had  made  a small  tunnel.  At  one  end  he  had  placed 
his  tobacco  and  lighted  it,  and  was  sucking  the  smoke 
through  the  tunnel  into  his  mouth.  How  one  lives  and 
learns ! 

After  leaving  Mulbe  we  turned  off  the  caravan  road  in 
order  to  return  via  Suru  under  Nun  Kun  and  down  the 
Wardwan  nullah. 

We  passed  the  monastery  of  Shergol.  It  is  built  into 
the  rock.  The  windows  seem  to  be  in  the  face  of  a 
precipice.  The  entrance  and  exit  is  peculiar,  for  a basket 
is  let  down  by  a rope,  in  which  the  visitor  sits  and  is 
pulled  up — -a  most  excellent  arrangement  for  keeping 
out  undesirables.  Our  first  view  of  the  Suru  river  was 
superb,  and  reminded  me  of  pictures  of  heaven  which  I 
had  seen  in  children’s  picture  books.  We  were  up  on  a 
ridge  and  looked  down  upon  the  river  where  it  widened 
out  and  was  full  of  islands  covered  with  willow-trees,  and 
giant  peaks  rising  behind  and  above  the  nearer  hills 
forming  the  valley. 

When  w^e  reached  the  bridge  we  found  that  it  was  far 
too  frail  for  our  ponies.  The  river  itself  could  not  be 
forded,  and  was  too  swift  and  dangerous  to  permit  of  the 

230 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

ponies  swimming.  What  was  to  be  done  ? The  question 
was  soon  answered  by  the  pony-men  taking  the  loads  off 
the  ponies  and  carrying  them  across,  then  tying  a rope 
round  a pony’s  neck,  the  pony  being  forced  into  the  river 
whilst  the  rope  was  held  by  the  man  who  walked  across 
the  bridge,  thus  keeping  the  pony’s  head  up-stream,  so 
that  the  strain  was  lessened.  In  this  way  all  our  ponies 
came  across  safely,  but  the  man  on  the  bridge  had  some 
difficulty  in  keeping  his  feet  as  the  strain  on  the  rope  was 
fairly  severe,  especially  in  mid-stream. 

The  village  of  Suru  lies  under  Nun  Kun,  a fine  pile  of 
rock,  the  summit  being  23,500  feet  above  sea-level.  It 
is  one  of  the  peaks  that  we  can  see  from  near  Srinagar, 
and  looks  like  a white  pyramid.  From  where  we  stood, 
looking  up  from  the  Suru  river,  it  was  just  magnificent, 
its  great  glaciers  shining  in  the  sunlight. 

Just  outside  the  village  is  a lonely  grave,  that  of 
Captain  Christian,  who  died  of  typhoid  whilst  on  a 
shooting  expedition.  We  spoke  to  the  head  of  the 
village  about  safeguarding  the  grave. 

On  our  march  from  Suru  we  came  across  a great 
number  of  marmots,  living  in  communities  like  rabbits. 
They  are  of  a reddish  brown  colour  and  of  the  size  of 
a small  fox.  They  place  sentinels  around  their  village, 
who  sit  on  the  top  of  a rock  to  enable  them  to  get  a 
good  view  of  their  enemies,  and  whistle  louder  and 
louder  as  they  see  one  approaching  and  then  dart  into 
their  burrows.  They  are  most  fascinating  animals. 
They  seem  to  like  the  wild  garlic  that  grows  profusely 
in  these  regions. 

We  entered  the  Wardwan  Valley  by  the  Do  Nullah 
Pass,  and  had  to  walk  for  seven  miles  on  a glacier;  it  was 
exciting  work  jumping  the  crevasses.  We  were  careful 
to  take  off  some  inches  on  this  side  and  land  with  plenty 

231 


A Trip  to  Ladakh 

of  ice  to  spare  on  the  other  side,  in  case  of  the  ice  being 
rotten.  One  of  our  coolies  did  fall  into  a crevasse,  but  he 
was  saved  by  the  load  on  his  back  getting  hitched  on  to 
the  ice.  We  were  glad  when  all  our  party  reached  camp 
safely.  We  were  careful  to  select  a safe  place  for  our 
tents,  for  we  passed  the  spot  where  Lieutenant  Genge, 
I.M.S.,  encamped,  and  during  the  night  he  with  all  his 
servants  was  swept  away  by  an  avalanche.  The  Ward  wan 
is  an  exceptionally  narrow  valley,  and  hence  the  mountain- 
sides are  very  steep  and  precipitous,  so  that  snow-slides 
and  avalanches  are  very  common,  and  one  has  to  keep 
one’s  weather-eye  open  for  them. 

During  our  march  Dr  Neve  managed  to  fit  in  a good 
deal  of  medical  work.  He  would  see  the  patients  after 
our  tea,  and  also,  if  necessary,  in  the  morning  before 
starting.  Some  patients  followed  us  from  camp  to  camp, 
when  it  was  necessary  for  them  to  have  continual  treat- 
ment. Dr  Neve  during  this  tour  performed  forty-two 
operations  for  cataract.  It  was  great  to  see  the  delight 
of  the  people  who  received  sight.  After  the  operation, 
which  was  accomplished  in  a marvellously  short  time,  Dr 
Neve  would  hold  up  his  fingers  and  ask  the  patient  to  count 
them.  When  the  patient  found  that  he  was  correct  in 
his  counting,  and  could  really  see,  a smile  began  to  pervade 
the  face,  which  grew  wider  and  wider  as  he  realised  that 
it  was  no  dream  or  sorcery,  but  naked  fact,  that  his  sight 
was  restored.  Of  course  the  eye  was  bandaged  up 
directly,  and  the  patient  was  given  strict  orders  not  to 
undo  the  bandage  for  two  weeks.  The  removal  of  the 
cataract  is  a wonderfully  neat  and  quick  operation,  and 
one  envies  those  who  have  the  power  to  give  such  joy  in 
so  few  seconds;  it  is  very  little  short  of  the  miraculous. 
And  then  there  is  the  greater  joy  of  the  missionary  doctor 
who  bestows  the  great  gift  freely  and  without  payment, 

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A Trip  to  Ladakh 

like  the  Good  Physician  who  went  about  Galilee  healing 
all  manner  of  diseases.  From  the  Wardwan  we  climbed 
the  pass,  and  dropped  down  through  pine  forests  into 
the  Kashmir  Valley,  crossing  beautiful  grassy  margs  and 
sparkling  streams,  until  we  finally  reached  the  river  at 
Islamabad,  and  found  our  boat  waiting  for  us.  Oh,  the 
joy  of  being  able  to  travel  without  moving  our  legs!  I 
do  not  know  when  I so  much  enjoyed  a boat  journey,  the 
tramping  over,  and  now  gliding  gently  down-stream  for 
forty-eight  miles  to  Srinagar  and  home  at  the  end  of  it. 


233 


CHAPTER  XIX 


KASHMIR  MEDICAL  MISSION 

IN  the  European  cemetery  at  the  Sheikh  Bagh,  which 
is  situated  near  the  first  of  the  city  bridges,  is  a 
grave  which  I never  pass  without  taking  my  hat  off, 
for  in  it  lies  the  mortal  remains  of  Lieut.  Robert  Thorp, 
who  gave  his  life  for  the  Kashmiris  in  the  year  1867. 

The  grave  lies  under  the  shadow  of  one  of  those  beau- 
tiful chenar-trees,  which  are  a continual  comfort  to  those 
seeking  shelter  from  the  summer  sun,  and  a joy  to  behold 
when  the  leaves  take  on  their  glorious  autumn  tints  of 
pink-scarlet. 

Robert  Thorp  came  to  Kashmir,  like  many  other  British 
officers,  to  shoot  big  game  on  the  mountains;  but  his 
mind  was  soon  directed  to  a more  important  matter — 
namely,  the  sorrows  of  the  Kashmiris  under  maladminis- 
tration. He  found  the  peasants,  who  were  Mohammedans, 
suffering  terribly  under  the  rule  of  Hindu  officials,  who 
sucked  the  very  life-blood  out  of  them.  They  paid  their 
taxes  in  kind,  the  State  claiming  half  the  crops,  and  the 
State  officials  who  collected  the  grain  taking  a quarter  or 
more. 

There  was  such  an  army  of  Hindu  officials  whose  duty 
it  was  to  collect  the  grain  that,  when  all  had  been 
supplied,  both  lawfully  and  unlawfully,  there  was  very 
little  left  for  the  zamindar  and  his  family  who  had  farmed 
the  land. 

Often  it  happened  that  the  farmer  and  his  family  had 
to’live  on  roots,  or  anything  they  could  find  on  which  to 

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Kashmir  Medical  Mission 

exist.  Apopros  of  this  system  of  collecting  the  grain 
the  Kashmiris  tell  the  following  story : — 

“ Once  upon  a time  there  was  a very  great  nobleman, 
who  was  a Pathan,  who  lived  in  the  mountains  to  the 
north-west  of  Cashmere : his  name  was  Mos  Deen  Khan. 
One  day  he  went  upon  a journey  to  Srinagar,  in  Cashmere, 
in  order  to  pay  his  respects  to  the  king  of  that  country, 
and  it  happened  that  on  that  occasion  he  rode  a horse 
for  which  he  had  a very  great  regard.  He  was  indeed 
so  fond  of  this  horse  that  he  used  to  call  himself  ‘ the 
father  of  the  animal ! 5 

“When  Mos  Deen  Khan  reached  Sat-o-kuddel,  which  is 
the  seventh  bridge  over  the  Jhelum  at  Srinagar,  he  alighted 
from  his  steed  that  he  might  proceed  to  the  royal  palace 
on  foot ; and  having  given  many  instructions  to  the  groom 
with  regard  to  the  well  treatment  of  the  horse,  as  well 
as  special  orders  on  no  account  to  ride  him,  he  sent  him 
back  to  his  abode  in  the  mountains. 

“ But  when  Mos  Deen  Khan  got  half-way  to  the 
palace  of  the  King  he  bethought  himself  that  perhaps 
his  servant  might  ill-treat  his  horse ; he  therefore  sent 
another  of  his  attendants  with  orders  to  overtake  them, 
and  ascertain  whether  the  beloved  animal  was  well  cared 
for.  The  menial  departed,  and  found  the  first  servant 
riding  the  horse.  He  thought,  4 It  is  better  for  me  to  ride 
at  my  ease  than  to  quarrel  with  this  servant,  who  may 
perhaps  afterwards  falsely  accuse  me  to  my  master  ’ ; so 
he  too  mounted. 

“ Now  when  Mos  Deen  Khan  got  very  near  the  palace 
of  the  King  he  again  bethought  himself  that  perhaps  it 
would  be  better  to  send  a still  more  trustworthy  servant 
to  be  a check  upon  the  conduct  of  the  others  with  regard 
to  his  horse.  But  when  the  third  servant  overtook  the 
party,  and  found  his  two  predecessors  riding,  he  also 

235 


Kashmir  Medical  Mission 

mounted ; and  the  horse,  which  could  have  carried  one, 
became  so  exhausted  under  the  weight  of  three,  that,  on 
reaching  his  stable,  he  died.” 

The  application  of  the  story  is  obvious  enough,  and  is 
a good  illustration  of  the  natural  wit  of  the  Kashmiris. 

There  was  another  matter  which  troubled  them  much, 
and  that  was  the  forced  labour  on  the  Gilgit  road. 
Gilgit,  an  outpost  to  the  north  of  Kashmir,  200  miles 
from  Srinagar,  was  garrisoned  by  Kashmir  troops.  It  is 
situated  in  a foodless  region,  so  the  troops  had  to  be  fed 
from  the  Kashmir  Valley.  No  road  had  been  made  there, 
so  all  the  supplies  had  to  be  carried  by  coolies.  These 
men  were  collected  from  the  villages  with  the  aid  of 
press-gangs.  The  sepoys  always  brought  in  more  than 
were  required  so  that  those  who  had  money  could  buy 
themselves  off  their  hands. 

At  Bandipore  they  were  collected  and  loaded  up.  The 
only  rations  allowed  them  was  a seer  of  rice  per  day ; this 
they  had  to  carry,  plus  the  straw  for  making  their  straw 
shoes,  plus  their  load  of  food  for  the  garrison.  No 
provision  was  made  for  them  as  they  crossed  the  snow 
passes,  so  that  many  died  on  the  road,  and  often  it 
happened  that  when  they  did  reach  Gilgit  they  were  sold 
as  slaves  to  the  wild  inhabitants  of  that  inhospitable 
region.  The  grandfather  of  one  of  my  servants,  who 
was  sent  there,  was  exchanged  for  a Chinese  dog,  but 
later  on  he  escaped. 

Dr  Arthur  Neve,  in  his  book,  Thirty  Tears  in  Kashmir , 
writes : 

“To  the  Englishman  the  word  Gilgit  should  recall 
the  many  gallant  deeds  of  the  nineties — the  capture  of 
Hunza,  the  relief  of  Chitral,  and  the  Pamir  Commission. 
During  the  last  half-century  Kashmir  is  the  only  Indian 
native  state  that  has  increased  in  area.  And  the  increase 

236 


Kashmir  Medical  Mission 

was  not  desired,  but  was  forced  upon  the  Imperial  Govern- 
ment by  the  advancing  power  of  the  Russian  Empire  and 
the  intrigues  of  its  frontier  officers.” 

The  triangle  of  mountainous  country  which  lies  between 
Kashmir  on  the  south,  Russian  Central  Asia  on  the  north, 
and  Afghanistan  on  the  west  is  one  of  the  wildest  in  the 
world,  and  one  of  the  least  accessible.  Great  empires 
have  existed  on  both  sides  of  the  mountains ; armies  have 
from  time  immemorial  marched  along  the  southern  skirts 
to  conquer  India,  and  along  the  northern  to  subdue  the 
fertile  countries  of  Central  Asia;  at  times  there  have  been 
great  migrations  of  tribes  from  the  vast  plains  of  Mongolia 
to  invade  the  West;  but  the  Hindu  Kush  valleys  have 
stood  out  above  the  flood  of  migration  or  conquest,  and 
their  primitive  tribes  offer  most  interesting  problems  to 
students  of  language  and  race. 

For  many  years  after  I came  to  the  country  the  mere 
name  of  Gilgit  struck  terror  into  the  Kashmiri.  For  him 
it  had  the  most  alarming  meaning.  It  spoke  of  forced 
labour,  frost-bite  on  the  lofty  passes,  and  valleys  of  death, 
where  the  camps  were  haunted  by  cholera  and  starvation. 
Early  in  April  one  year  came  word  that  the  frontier  tribes 
were  on  the  warpath,  and  orders  were  issued  for  a levy 
of  5000  porters  to  accompany  the  two  regiments  sent  to 
reinforce  the  garrisons. 

I was  at  Islamabad,  endeavouring  to  fight  an  epidemic 
of  cholera  by  sanitation,  and  noticed  coolies  collecting 
from  all  the  surrounding  region,  each  with  a blanket, 
spare  grass-shoes,  his  carrying  crutch  and  light  frame  of 
sticks  and  rope  in  which  to  carry  the  load  upon  his  back. 
And  I was  present  at  the  great  concourse  in  a green 
meadow  in  front  of  the  mosque  when  a sort  of  farewell 
service  was  held  for  those  starting  on  this  perilous 
journey.  Loud  was  the  sobbing  of  many,  and  fervid  the 

237 


Kashmir  Medical  Mission 

demeanour  of  all,  as,  led  by  the  mullah,  they  intoned 
their  prayers  and  chanted  some  of  their  special  Ramzan 
penitential  psalms.  Even  braver  men  than  the  Kashmiris 
might  well  have  been  agitated  at  such  a time,  when  taking 
farewell  of  their  loved  ones.  Who  would  till  their  fields  ? 
What  would  happen  during  their  long  absence  to  their 
wives  and  children?  To  what  perils  would  they  them- 
selves be  exposed  in  the  crowded  bivouacs  and  snowy 
passes  of  that  deadly  Gilgit  district  ? 

Hence  one  can  understand  what  a pitiable  sight  it  must 
have  been  to  see  the  families  bidding  farewell  to  their 
men-folk  when  they  were  needed  for  the  fields,  and  whom 
more  than  likely  they  would  never  see  again. 

To  Lord  Roberts  was  left  the  honour  of  putting  a stop 
to  this  unnecessary  suffering.  He  was  sent  to  Kashmir 
by  the  Indian  Government,  at  the  request  of  the  present 
Maharajah,  to  reorganise  the  Kashmir  army,  and  the 
Gilgit  transport  was  one  of  the  first  matters  he  tackled. 

Now  the  name  Gilgit  has  lost  its  terrors,  for  there  is 
a fine  road  for  pack-animals,  and  men  go  there  without 
fear,  for  on  the  passes  huts  are  placed  on  piles  from  six 
feet  to  twenty  feet  high,  so  that  there  is  always  a refuge 
for  travellers  when  crossing  those  high  passes  when  deep 
in  snow  and  blizzards  are  sweeping  across  them. 

Then  again  the  condition  of  the  shawl  weavers  was 
pitiable,  for  they  were  practically  slaves,  and  never  allowed 
to  leave  the  country,  as  I have  mentioned  elsewhere.  No 
Kashmiri  women  were  allowed  to  leave  the  country,  for 
it  was  hoped  that  by  this  restriction  it  would  prevent 
their  husbands  from  trying  to  escape  to  India. 

To  give  a concrete  instance  of  this,  the  late  Rev.  W.  I. 
Stores  told  me  that  when  he  was  chaplain  in  Kashmir  he 
was  leaving  the  country  by  the  Pir  Punjal  route,  when 
at  the  pass  his  progress  was  blocked  by  a guard  of  sepoys, 

238 


Kashmir  Medical  Mission 

who  told  him  to  hand  over  his  coolies,  as  they  were  not 
allowed  to  leave  Kashmir,  being  shawl  weavers  who  had 
offered  themselves  as  coolies,  hoping  that  under  the 
shadow  of  a Britisher  they  might  escape  to  India,  and 
further  ordered  the  cook’s  wife,  who  was  with  the  party, 
to  return.  She  had  dressed  herself  in  Punjabi  women’s 
clothes  in  the  hope  of  escape. 

Lieutenant  Thorp  during  his  stay  in  the  country  made 
it  his  business  to  collect  information  regarding  the  perse- 
cution of  the  Kashmiris,  of  wffiich  these  stated  were  by  no 
means  the  worst  of  their  troubles.  He  brought  the  evil 
condition  of  the  people  to  the  notice  of  the  Indian 
Government,  and  also  wrote  to  the  papers  in  England, 
to  try  to  raise  up  interest  on  their  behalf  and  so  bring 
deliverance.  However,  trouble  came  upon  him,  and  he 
was  ordered  out  of  the  country,  and  because  he  refused 
to  go  he  was  bound  to  his  bed  and  carried  towards  the 
pass  by  sepoys.  He,  howrever,  managed  to  escape,  and 
returned  to  Srinagar;  but  it  wras  of  no  avail,  for  next 
morning  he  died  of  poison  after  his  breakfast. 

No  doubt  this  gallant  young  officer  thought,  when  he 
realised  that  his  end  was  near,  that  all  his  efforts  to  help 
the  slaves  had  been  of  no  use;  but  if  he  thought  so  he 
was  mistaken,  and  he  probably  knows  now  that  his  life 
was  not  laid  down  in  vain. 

Other  British  officers  had  seen  the  S.O.S.  and  answered 
the  call — such  as  Sir  Robert  Montgomery,  Lieutenant- 
Governor  of  the  Punjab,  Sir  Herbert  Edwards,  Colonel 
Martin  and  Colonel  Urmston  (wdth  wffiom  rests  the  honour 
of  having  put  a stop  to  the  burning  of  Hindu  widows  in 
Kashmir).  These  men  met  together  to  consider  how  best 
they  could  help  Kashmir,  and  they  agreed  that  the 
Kashmiri  needed  spiritual  as  wrell  as  bodily  help.  So 
they  subscribed  Rs.  14,000,  sent  it  to  the  C.M.S.,  and 

239 


Kashmir  Medical  Mission 

asked  them  to  send  to  Kashmir  a medical  missionary, 
for  he  would  gain  the  confidence  of  the  people,  and 
they  trusted  that  the  Maharajah  and  his  officials  would 
welcome  a doctor  to  their  country. 

The  Society  selected  Dr  Elmslie,  a Scot,  who  came  to 
India  as  the  first  medical  missionary.  Dr  Elmslie  arrived 
at  Srinagar  in  the  spring  of  1864.  His  life  was  hard 
and  difficult,  for  he  had  no  hospital,  his  operations  being 
performed  under  the  trees;  also  orders  were  issued  that 
the  people  were  not  to  visit  the  doctor,  and  sepoys  were 
stationed  around  to  keep  them  away,  as  the  sick  persisted 
in  coming  for  relief.  Several  patients  suffered  imprison- 
ment for  disobeying  the  order  of  the  authorities. 

No  Europeans  in  those  days  were  permitted  to  stay  in 
Kashmir  in  the  winter,  and  no  exception  was  made  in  the 
doctor’s  case. 

Dr  Elmslie  worked  for  eight  years,  and  died  in  1872, 
on  his  way  out  of  Kashmir.  The  Rev.  T.  R.  Wade 
worked  with  him,  and  did  excellent  work  in  the  early  days 
of  the  Medical  Mission.  The  Society  then  sent  out 
Dr  Theodore  Maxwell,  to  whom,  because  he  happened 
to  be  the  nephew  of  General  John  Nicholson,  the  hero 
of  Delhi,  the  Maharajah  granted  a site  for  the  Mission 
Hospital,  on  a hill  called  Rustum  Gari,  which  lies  below 
and  is  a continuation  of  the  Takht-i-Suliaman.  It  is 
a splendid  position  overlooking  the  Dal  or  City  Lake. 

Dr  Maxwell  remained  until  1876,  when  ill  health  com- 
pelled him  to  retire,  owing  to  continual  worries.  Mean- 
while there  was  a young  artillery  officer,  named  Edmund 
Downes,  who  had  resigned  his  commission  in  India  in 
order  that  he  might  become  a medical  missionary,  pre- 
paring for  the  work  in  Kashmir,  so  once  again  a soldier 
came  to  the  relief  of  the  down-trodden  people  of 
Kashmir. 


240 


Kashmir  Medical  Mission 

During  his  time  a terrible  famine  came  upon  the  land, 
from  two  causes — viz.  an  exceptionally  early  winter,  and 
grasping  officials.  The  farmers  were  not  allowed  to 
garner  their  crops  until  the  officials  had  measured  them, 
and  the  officials  would  not  measure  them  until  they  had 
been  paid  (unlawfully)  by  the  farmers  for  allowing  them 
to  garner  their  crops.  The  farmers  were  holding  out 
against  this  imposition  as  it  was  excessive,  and  the  officials 
on  their  side  would  not  modify  their  demands.  Then 
came  a heavy  fall  of  snow  which  made  harvesting 
impossible,  and  so  thousands  of  Mohammedan  families 
perished ; but  the  Hindus  were  less  hardly  hit,  as  they 
were  fed  out  of  the  Government  storehouses. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  the  missionaries  came  to  the 
fore — viz.  Dr  Downes  and  the  Rev.  T.  R.  Wade,  who 
had  been  sent  up  to  help.  They  wrote  home  for  help, 
and  wdth  the  money  had  food  brought  up  from  India  on 
ponies.  They  started  relief  works.  They  dug  a canal 
from  the  river  to  the  Dal,  so  that  boats  could  pass  from 
one  to  the  other.  This  canal  has  since  been  widened  and 
now  forms  one  of  the  principal  waterways.  They  also 
started  an  orphanage  for  the  orphan  children  and  an 
asylum  for  destitute  women,  and  in  various  ways  did  their 
best  to  alleviate  the  sufferings  of  the  stricken.  They 
had  much  to  contend  with,  as  certain  officials  objected  to 
this  wrork  of  mercy  being  done  by  Britishers.  Fortunately 
the  British  Resident,  who  was  a strong,  humane  man, 
backed  them  up,  and  saw  them  through  many  difficulties. 

But  the  famine  lost  us  Dr  Downes,  for  his  wife’s 
health  gave  way,  as  she  herself  told  me,  on  account  of 
the  terrible  sufferings  of  the  people  day  by  day  of  which 
she  was  an  unwilling  beholder,  since  so  little  could  be 
done  in  comparison  with  the  hugeness  of  the  task. 

In  those  days  Dr  Arthur  Neve  arrived.  He  had  hoped 

Q.  241 


Kashmir  Medical  Mission 


to  be  sent  to  Equatorial  Africa  to  help  in  the  pioneer 
work  around  Lake  Nyanza  with  his  friend  Bishop 
Hannington,  but  a doctor  was  badly  needed  in  Kashmir, 
so  Dr  Neve  went  East,  and  was  soon  giving  of  his  best 
to  Kashmir. 

When  he  arrived  he  found  a line  of  mud  huts  on  the 
side  of  the  hill  which  answered  the  purpose  of  a hospital. 

Arthur  Neve  was  a man  not  only  to  see  visions  but  to 
see  that  they  were  fulfilled.  His  vision  was  a fine  up-to- 
date  hospital  with  every  necessary  scientific  appliance. 
This  he  lived  to  see  an  accomplished  fact.  For  he  and  his 
brother.  Dr  Ernest  F.  Neve,  who  joined  him  four  years 
later,  gathered  gradually  from  their  fees  and  donations 
such  sums  yearly  as  not  only  were  ample  for  the  running 
of  a big  hospital,  but  for  adding  to  their  buildings,  until 
it  reached  its  present  splendid  dimensions.  It  is  also 
interesting  to  note  that  whereas  in  the  early  days  of 
i860  the  then  Maharajah  would  not  grant  the  doctor  an 
inch  of  ground  at  first  on  which  to  put  up  even  a hut  in 
which  to  care  for  his  sick  subjects,  the  present  Maharajah 
gives  yearly  a donation  to  the  hospital,  and  free  electric 
light,  and  has  on  several  occasions  visited  the  hospital  when 
new  buildings  were  being  opened.  In  the  early  days 
the  officials  tried  to  obstruct  the  doctor  and  patients  in 
every  way ; now  they  and  their  families  gladly  accept  the 
medical  help  and  skill  which  this  hospital  offers. 

The  hospital  contains  150  beds. 


In-patients  per  annum 
Out-patients  ,, 
Operations  ,, 
Total  attendances 


1»719 

16,158 

4,i43 

38,954 


The  European  hospital  staff  now  consists  of  three 
doctors — E.  F.  Neve,  Cecil  Vosper,  M.  R.  Roche — two 


242 


Kashmir  Medical  Mission 

English  nurses — Miss  Nora  Neve,  the  niece  of  Doctor 
Neve,  who  came  out  first  in  1891,  and  Miss  Lucy 
M‘Cormick — and  quite  recently  Miss  H.  Smith  has  joined 
the  staff.  These  ladies  have  no  easy  task,  for  Eastern 
assistants  have  not  the  same  sense  of  duty  as  Westerners, 
and  hence  it  means  an  immense  amount  of  supervision,  as 
mistakes  and  carelessness  may  spell  death. 

Then  in  this  hospital,  like  many  others  in  India,  members 
of  the  family  of  the  sick  person  come  into  the  wards  to 
help  nurse  their  relations ; this  may  lighten  work  in  one 
way,  but  makes  it  heavier  in  others. 

During  the  summer  months  the  work  increases  much, 
so  that  it  has  been  the  custom  for  the  Society  to  send 
help.  The  following  names  will  bring  happy  memories 
to  the  minds  of  those  who  have  visited  Kashmir  in 
different  years,  and  those  of  the  country  who  have 
received  so  many  kindnesses  from  them. 

Thinking  of  them  according  to  time : R.  Venables 
Green,  Esq. ; Dr  W.  F.  Adams,  who  has  now  a practice 
in  Essex ; Dr  Sydney  Gaster,  now  at  Quetta  Hospital ; 
Dr  Somterton  Clark,  in  England  from  ill  health ; Dr  H.  T. 
Holland,  who  was  in  Kashmir  and  wrho  wras  a tower  of 
strength  in  the  dark  days  of  September  last  when  Dr  A. 
Neve  passed  from  us;  Dr  A.  J.  Turner,  in  practice  at 
home ; Dr  H.  E.  Rawlins,  who  was  obliged  to  retire 
through  ill  health,  now  in  practice  in  England ; Dr  H.  V. 
Starr,  who  wras  cruelly  murdered  at  the  Mission  Hospital, 
Peshawar,  in  April  1918;  Dr  Reeve  Heber,  who  came  at 
a time  of  heavy  strain  at  the  hospital,  and  who  is  now 
back  at  his  hospital  in  Leh. 

It  is  indeed  a wrorthy  list,  and  Kashmir  is  to  be  con- 
gratulated on  having  the  help  of  such  men. 

It  is  impossible  for  me  to  convey  to  my  readers  the 
greatness  and  importance  of  the  work  that  has  been,  and 

243 


Kashmir  Medical  Mission 

is  being,  carried  on  in  this  splendid  institution,  so  I will 
pass  on  the  account  written  by  Dr  Arthur  Neve  himself 
of  a day’s  work  in  the  hospital : 

“ For  the  last  two  days  the  roads  leading  into  the  city 
have  been  thronged  with  villagers,  tramping  in  and  sing- 
ing as  they  tramp,  drawn  by  the  great  shrine  at  Hazrat 
Bal,  where  the  hair  of  Mohammed  is  displayed  on  certain 
festivals.  These  are  the  great  days  to  which  the  people, 
especially  perhaps  the  women  and  children,  look  keenly 
forward,  for  not  only  is  there  the  display  at  the  shrine, 
but  the  opportunity  of  showing  off  their  best  clothes  and 
jewellery,  and  of  seeing  the  shops  of  the  city  and  making 
their  frugal  purchases.  A bundle  on  the  man’s  back 
contains  a few  days’  rice  and  condiments,  and  the  wife 
carries  a fat  cock  as  a present  to  the  mullahs. 

“But  there  is  a second  pilgrimage  centre  with  a special 
attraction  for  the  many  who  have  sore  eyes  or  various 
surgical  complaints — namely,  the  Mission  Hospital — and 
the  waves  of  the  rising  tide  begin  to  lap  in  at  the  gates. 
It  is  scarcely  the  busiest  season,  but  already  135  beds  are 
occupied,  and  all  these  in-patients  have  been  personally 
seen  before  ten  a.m.  The  hospital  seems  full  of  interest- 
ing cases,  and  we  find  that  107  different  towns  and 
villages  are  represented  in  the  wards.  Then  comes  the 
first  preaching  at  eleven  a.m.  to  a dense  mass  of  people, 
and  soon  we  and  the  nurses  and  some  thirty  helpers  are 
dealing  as  rapidly  and  effectively  as  possible  with  the 
string  of  patients  passing  into  the  consulting-room. 
Some  merely  need  a little  medicine,  others  go  into  the 
minor  operating-room  and  are  prepared  for  operations ; 
the  women  pass  to  the  female  dressing-room,  w'hile  some 
are  sent  straight  to  the  wards.  By  noon  a hundred  have 
been  seen  ; but  many  very  serious  cases  remain  to  be 
dealt  with — a child  who  has  fallen  from  an  upper  storey 

244 


Kashmir  Medical  Mission 

and  broken  his  skull,  a woman  who  has  fallen  and  sus- 
tained several  internal  injuries  as  well  as  external  wounds 
(she  died,  the  child  recovered),  and  a man  with  a fractured 
leg,  as  well  as  many  requiring  serious  operations.  But  at 
noon  we  adjourn  to  the  chapel  for  our  usual  prayer  and 
service  with  the  assistants,  and  then  we  separate  to  various 
wards  to  give  some  Bible  teaching. 

“By  twelve-forty-five  p.m.  everything  is  once  more  in 
full  swing ; and  in  one  room  some  private  paying  patients, 
including  a high  State  official,  are  being  attended  to, 
while  operations  are  being  performed  simultaneously  in 
two  other  rooms.  By  two-thirty  p.m.  most  of  the  out- 
patients have  been  treated  and  two  more  out-patient 
addresses  given,  and  the  European  members  of  the  staff" 
take  a hurried  lunch,  while  the  patients  who  have  been 
dealt  with  are  gradually  dismissed.  Then  again  we 
plunge  into  the  operating;  so  far  six  major  and  forty 
minor  operations  have  been  done.  A bad  smash  is 
brought  in  after  ten  days’  journey,  from  a town  where 
there  is  a doctor.  4 Why  did  you  come  ? ’ 4 Oh,  Sahib, 
the  doctor  wanted  to  cut  off  my  boy’s  leg,  and  we  heard 
that  you  save  legs.’  An  antiseptic  leg-bath  was  ordered, 
splints  were  applied  after  removing  some  bone,  and  the  leg 
was  kept  on.  (He  was  able  to  walk  in  two  months.) 
And  so  the  hours  passed.  By  four  p.m.  over  350  patients 
had  been  seen;  but  it  was  getting  on  for  seven  o’clock 
before  our  last  operations  were  finished,  and  even  then 
I was  called  along  to  the  wards  to  check  some  bleeding 
in  a case  which  had  been  operated  upon  earlier  in  the 
day.  Well,  it  had  been  a good  day’s  work;  we  three 
doctors  and  two  senior  assistants  had  between  us  per- 
formed twenty  or  twenty-one  major  operations  and  fifty 
minor.  Our  work  was  done,  but  the  nurses’  work  went 
on  till  nearly  midnight.” 


245 


! 


Kashmir  Medical  Mission 

The  busiest  season  is  in  April,  May  and  August.  In 
the  first  month  on  one  day  there  were  438  out-patients. 

The  teaching  is  an  integral  and  essential  part  of  the 
work  in  order  that  our  motives  may  not  be  misunderstood, 
and  that  the  full  message  of  Christianity  may  appear — a 
message  for  the  hearts  of  the  sorrowful  and  oppressed,  as 
well  as  for  the  bodies  of  the  suffering.  Dr  Wilfrid 
Grenfell,  C.M.G.,  the  distinguished  medical  missionary  of 
Labrador,  says : 

“I  always  kept  pasted  up  in  my  surgery,  where  some- 
times the  continuous  stream  of  patients  calls  for  more 
sympathy  than  I have  to  give,  and  is  likely  to  make  one 
irritable  and  useless  because  unsympathetic,  these  old 
words : 

“ ‘ He  did  kindly  things  so  kindly, 

It  seemed  his  heart’s  delight 
To  make  poor  people  happy 
From  morning  unto  night.’  ” 

Work  in  a hospital  must  always  be  exacting  and  often 
very  wearying  to  the  flesh,  but  it,  like  all  else,  is  relieved 
by  humour  at  times.  The  Rev.  T.  R.  Wade,  writing  in 
his  diary  some  fifty  odd  years  ago,  speaks  of  the  patients 
as  being  very  superstitious ; for  they  when  leaving  the 
hospital  would  go  straight  away  to  their  priests  to  thank 
them  for  their  recovery  and  to  pay  them,  believing  them 
to  have  been  the  cause  of  their  recovery.  Mr  Wade 
would  say  to  these  superstitious  folk:  “You  give  us  all 
the  kam  and  taklif  [i.e.  the  work  and  the  trouble],  whilst 
to  your  priests  you  give  all  the  dam  and  tarif  [i.e.  the  pay 
and  the  praise].” 

These  same  words  can  be  said  with  truth  to-day  to 
many  of  them,  though  of  course  much  superstition  and 
ignorance  has  been  cut  out  and  cleaned  away. 

One  day  I saw  a man  who  was  just  leaving  the  hospital 

246 


Kashmir  Medical  Mission 

holding  out  his  hand  to  Dr  Arthur  Neve  and  making  a 
request.  Neve  turned  to  me  laughing,  saying:  “This 
man  is  asking  me  to  go  shares  with  him  over  the  tumour 
that  I have  taken  out  of  his  back,”  for,  said  the  patient, 
“you  surely  would  not  have  taken  all  this  trouble  over 
me,  and  taken  out  the  tumour,  unless  you  were  going  to 
make  money  over  the  sale  of  it.” 

On  another  occasion  at  the  hospital  a fine  strapping 
Mohammedan  about  forty  years  of  age  came  up  to  me 
and  then  burst  out  crying.  His  tears  literally  poured  out 
of  his  eyes  down  his  cheeks,  making  the  wooden  floor 
wet,  as  he  stood  before  me,  for  the  Kashmiris  possess 
truly  colossal  water-tanks. 

I asked  him  w'hat  was  up,  and  he  sobbed  out  between 
his  gulps : “ I am  an  orphan  ! I am  an  orphan  ! ” How 
could  I comfort  this  poor  orphan  ? Fortunately  I 
remembered  that  I also  was  an  orphan.  So  I took  out 
my  pocket-handkerchief,  which  I stuffed  into  my  eyes,  as 
my  w’ater- works  w'ere  no  match  for  his,  and  therefore  I 
could  only  sob  out,  “ So  am  I ! So  am  I ! ” Nevertheless 
our  sobs,  if  not  our  tears,  intermingled.  The  result  w'as 
magic.  The  w ater-cocks  were  turned  off  and  our  heaviness 
was  turned  into  joy  as  we  laughed  together  and  forgot 
all  about  being  poor  orphans.  He  was,  of  course,  only 
trying  it  on  in  the  hope  that  I had  a soft  heart  which 
melted  at  tears  and  would  shell  out  rupees. 

The  Kashmiris  are  an  amusing  folk,  and  their  water- 
works add  quite  a large  part  to  their  enjoyment  in  life, 
for  they  are  great  actors. 

Beyond  all  this  w^ork  in  Srinagar  there  is  left  untold 
the  thousands  of  patients  that  are  relieved  wdien  the 
doctors  go  on  tour,  in  the  valley  itself,  and  to  the  regions 
beyond,  giving  relief  to  those  who  would  otherwise  have 
to  endure  their  pain  and  sufferings  till  death  relieved  them. 

247 


Kashmir  Medical  Mission 

No  wonder  then  that  when  Dr  Arthur  Neve  passed 
away  from  us  to  the  Greater  Empire,  into  the  fuller  and 
real  life,  in  September,  1919,  there  was  such  a following 
to  the  grave  as  had  never  been  witnessed  before,  number- 
ing two  or  three  thousand.  Not  only  did  they  weep,  but 
showed  their  sorrow  practically  by  meeting  together  next 
day  to  consider  what  suitable  memorial  to  raise  to  their 
friend  of  nearly  forty  years. 

Besides  the  work  in  the  great  hospital,  the  State  has 
placed  in  their  hands  the  care  of  their  leper  hospital, 
which  contains  over  100  inmates.  The  hospital  stands 
on  a promontory  in  the  Dal  Lake,  in  a most  beautiful 
position.  The  lepers  are  encouraged  to  do  a certain 
amount  of  gardening  in  order  to  keep  them  occupied,  and 
so  keep  their  minds  off  their  miserable  condition. 

I will  quote  from  Dr  Ernest  Neve’s  book,  Beyond  the 
Pir  Punjal : 

“ In  Kashmir  there  is  no  compulsory  segregation 
of  lepers.  Those  who  come  to  the  hospital  do  so 
voluntarily,  and  stay  just  as  long  as  they  like.  For  this 
reason  it  has  been  found  difficult  to  develop  industrial 
work  amongst  them.  It  is  important  that  those  who 
are  well  enough  should  have  some  occupation.  They  are 
therefore  expected  to  keep  their  own  rooms  clean ; and 
odd  jobs— such  as  grass-cutting,  white- washing,  path- 
making and  so  on — are  encouraged.  There  is  also  a little 
school  for  the  children.  Most  of  the  lepers  come  from 
hill  districts  around  the  valley  of  Kashmir.  Many  of 
them  belong  to  the  herdsman  class.  Leprosy  is  not 
hereditary ; it  appears  to  be  propagated  by  a limited 
contagion  among  those  who  live  in  crowded  huts  and 
under  insanitary  conditions.  There  are  two  chief  types 
of  the  disease.  In  one  of  these  there  are  pale,  leprous 
patches,  with  loss  of  sensation.  This  form  affects  fingers 

248 


Kashmir  Medical  Mission 

and  toes,  which  drop  oft',  and  it  appears  to  correspond 
more  closely  with  the  leprosy  mentioned  in  the  Bible  than 
the  other  form.  The  second  form,  the  so-called  tuber- 
cular leprosy,  is  far  more  disfiguring.  The  body  is 
covered  with  lumps,  and,  as  these  are  very  numerous  on 
the  face,  the  patient’s  features  are  distorted,  and  some- 
times look  quite  leonine.  In  many  the  eyes  are  attacked, 
and  incurable  blindness  follows  only  too  often. 

Advanced  cases  are  turned  out  of  their  homes  and 
people  refuse  to  eat  with  them,  so  their  condition  is 
very  sad.  The  less  marked  cases  often  continue  to  live 
in  their  villages,  and  they  are  a source  of  danger  to  others. 
I remember  once,  when  travelling  in  a mountainous  part 
of  Kashmir,  going  to  a cottage  and  asking  for  some  milk. 
A man  brought  me  some  in  his  bowl.  I was  just  about 
to  drink  it  when,  glancing  at  the  man,  I saw  that  he  was 
a leper.  There  are  undoubted  risks  when  lepers  are 
mixed  with  the  population,  living,  sleeping  and  eating 
with  healthy  people.  It  will  at  once  be  perceived  that 
the  larger  the  number  of  lepers  in  the  hospital  the 
better  will  it  fulfil  its  intention ; and  the  longer  every 
leper  can  be  retained  in  the  institution  the  better  for 
himself  and  the  rest  of  the  population.  The  treatment 
is  chiefly  palliative.  But  many  of  the  lepers  improve  very 
much,  and  in  some  the  disease  appears  to  become,  after 
a time,  completely  arrested.  Food,  clothing,  bedding,  in 
fact  all  that  they  need,  is  supplied  to  the  lepers;  and 
as  funds  admit  we  are  gradually  furnishing  the  whole 
hospital  with  first-rate  iron  bedsteads. 

The  spiritual  work  in  the  leper  hospital  has  been  up- 
hill, and  in  some  respects  it  affords  a means  of  estimating 
the  difficulty  of  the  work  in  Kashmir,  and  the  apparent 
slowness  of  progress.  In  the  leper  hospital  the  patients 
owe  practically  everything  to  Christian  work.  In  their 

249 


Kashmir  Medical  Mission 

own  villages  most  of  them  are  outcasts,  although  the 
people  give  them  alms.  The  contrast  in  the  leper 
hospital  must  be  very  striking  to  them.  Here  they  have 
abundant  food  and  many  comforts,  with  cosy  little  rooms 
and  firewood  in  the  winter.  Their  wounds  are  dressed 
daily,  and  a friendly  interest  is  taken  in  them.  When 
we  go  to  this  hospital,  after  visiting  all  the  patients,  we 
gather  them  together  and  read  a portion  of  Scripture, 
following  it  with  simple  explanation  or  a short  evangelistic 
address.  Attendance  at  this  service  is  voluntary.  In  the 
summer  nearly  all  come : in  the  winter  the  number  drops 
to  thirty  or  forty.  The  patients  listen  with  attention. 
They  are  not  good  at  answering  questions ; many  of  them 
seem  to  be  afraid  lest  that  should  be  taken  by  the  others 
as  an  indication  of  an  intention  of  becoming  Christians. 
From  time  to  time,  however,  some  have  professed  their 
faith,  and  have  been  baptized.  These  have  all  been 
subject  to  a measure  of  persecution  from  the  other  lepers, 
who  promptly  refuse  to  eat  with  them,  and  object  to  live 
in  the  same  room,  and  not  infrequently  show  much  bitter- 
ness. And  yet  the  very  people  who  act  in  this  way  often 
say  Amen  quite  fervently  at  the  close  of  the  prayer  with 
which  our  service  is  ended.  The  fact  is  that  they  are 
ready  to  assent  to  a good  deal  of  Christian  teaching,  but 
object  to  baptism,  because  they  realise  that  a baptized 
person  is  no  longer  one  of  the  great  Mohammedan 
brotherhood,  and  is  therefore  from  their  standpoint 
a renegade. 

The  first  to  become  a Christian  in  the  present  leper 
hospital  was  K.K.  He  is  intelligent  and  independent,  and 
certainly  the  best  of  the  lepers.  In  the  first  instance  he 
was  influenced  largely  through  reading  a copy  of  the  New 
Testament  which  was  given  to  him. 

There  is  still  a tendency  for  the  leper  hospital  work  to 

250 


Kashmir  Medical  Mission 

grow  and  increase.  Before  long  I have  no  doubt  that  we 
shall  be  able  to  accommodate  more  than  too  lepers  in  the 
institution.  It  is  interesting  to  know  that  all  this  work 
is,  owing  to  the  enlightenment  and  liberality  of  the 
Maharajah  of  Kashmir,  carried  on  without  any  charge 
whatever  upon  the  funds  of  the  Church  Missionary 
Society.  If  there  were  no  Christians  at  all,  the  work 
would  nevertheless  be  interesting  and  encouraging,  for  is 
it  not  a literal  carrying-out  of  the  command  to  “ heal  the 
sick  . . . and  say  unto  them,  The  Kingdom  of  God  is 
come  nigh  unto  you  ” ? And  if  many  of  the  lepers  are 
somewhat  unresponsive,  and  their  gratitude  is  not  always 
conspicuous,  do  we  not  know  of  ten  lepers  who  were 
actually  completely  restored  to  health,  and  yet  of  whom 
only  one  stranger  returned  to  give  thanks  ? Who  can 
say  that  some  of  these  lepers,  taking  all  their  circum- 
stances and  the  heavy  handicap  of  disease  into  considera- 
tion, may  not  be  really  nearer  the  Kingdom  than  many 
Christians  who,  enjoying  health  and  the  innumerable 
privileges  of  a Christian  environment,  with  all  that  this 
means,  are  nevertheless  content  to  live  lives  of  luxury 
and  ease,  unmindful  of  the  White  Man’s  Burden,  and  the 
great  claim  of  Christian  opportunity,  which  calls  us  all  to 
work  while  it  is  yet  day  ? 

The  people  of  Kashmir  are  fortunate  in  having  much 
medical  assistance,  for  besides  the  two  well-equipped  State 
hospitals  in  Srinagar,  the  one  for  the  general  public,  and 
the  hospital  for  women,  there  are  dispensaries  in  all  the 
important  centres. 

The  present  chief  medical  officer  is  Colonel  Duni  Chand, 
who  decided  on  a medical  career  from  reading  the  life  of 
Dr  Livingstone,  so  the  State  is  to  be  congratulated  in 
having  an  officer  who  works  for  the  love  of  relieving 
pain  and  distress.  Also  the  women  of  the  city  are 

2Sl 


Kashmir  Medical  Mission 

fortunate  in  having  had  lady  doctors  in  charge  of  the 
Zenana  Hospital  who  have  never  spared  themselves  in 
their  solicitude  for  their  suffering  sisters.  Dr  Janet 
Vaughan  is  the  present  lady  in  charge,  and  fortunate  are 
the  women  of  this  city  in  having  such  a friend  amongst 
them. 

At  Islamabad  there  is  a well-run  hospital,  founded  by 
Mrs  Bishop — better  known  as  the  traveller  and  writer, 
Miss  Isabella  Bird — which  is  fortunate  in  having  two 
devoted  ladies  in  charge.  Dr  Minnie  Gomery  and  Miss 
Newnham. 

In  Srinagar  the  women  have  been  blessed  in  having 
amongst  them  Englishwomen  who  have  for  years  given 
of  their  best  to  relieve  them  in  their  times  of  sickness 
and  distress. 

To  mention  one,  Miss  Newman,  who  has  given 
nearly  thirty  years  of  devoted  service,  who  both 
night  and  day  has  been  at  their  beck  and  call,  tending 
the  sick  women  not  only  in  their  houses  but  also  ready 
to  crawl  into  the  little  cabins  of  the  barges  to  minister  to 
the  sick  and  dying.  Only  those  who  know  Kashmir 
bazaars  and  Kashmir  boat  life  can  truly  appreciate  what 
this  means. 


252 


CHAPTER  XX 


EDUCATION 

THE  indigenous  schools  of  Kashmir  have  always 
been  in  connection  with  the  mosques,  where  the 
boys  are  taught  to  read  Arabic  so  that  they 
may  be  able  to  read  the  Koran,  but  not  necessarily  to 
understand  it. 

Likewise  the  Brahmans  have  their  schools,  where 
Sanskrit  is  taught  so  that  the  boys  may  be  able  to  read 
the  sacred  Hindu  books.  To  these  two  languages,  Arabic 
and  Sanskrit,  Persian  was  added,  and  now  a certain  amount 
of  arithmetic  is  taught.  The  scholars  range  from  the 
age  of  five  years  to  sixteen  or  eighteen.  They  are  all 
taught  together,  in  the  same  room  in  the  winter  and  in 
the  verandahs  in  the  summer,  but  they  may  be  divided 
into  groups.  Often  there  are  not  enough  books  to  go 
round,  so  boys  club  together  to  look  over  one  book. 
The  books  are  as  a rule  ancient  volumes  belonging  to  the 
boys’  parents,  so  as  they  have  done  service  for  years, 
these  books  are  generally  much  the  worse  for  wear,  torn, 
and  smeared  all  over  with  grease  and  black,  and  often 
the  unmistakable  signs  of  curry  and  rice  are  upon  them. 
Every  scholar  brings  with  him  a board, about  twelve  by  seven 
inches,  which  is  his  slate,  a wooden  bottle  filled  with  chalk 
and  w'ater,  which  is  his  ink  and  ink  bottle,  a pen  made  of 
a stalk  of  Indian  corn,  and  lastly  a piece  of  glass,  generally 
the  bottom  part  of  a brandy  bottle,  with  which  to  polish 
his  wooden  slate,  so  that  it  may  have  a smooth  surface  on 
which  the  pen  can  run  easily.  A great  deal  of  time  is 

253 


Education 

spent  during  the  school  hours  in  cleaning  the  chalk  writ- 
ing from  the  boards  and  then  polishing  them.  It  is  quite 
hard  work,  so  provides  exercise  for  them,  which  is  the 
only  exercise  the  boys  ever  get  when  at  school,  as 
athletics  are  not  for  gentlemen,  and  scholars  are  gentle- 
men ! Long  before  you  arrive  at  one  of  these  schools 
you  are  aware  of  its  existence  by  the  shouting  of  many 
voices,  which  increases  as  you  approach — that  is  to  say, 
if  you  have  been  seen,  for  the  master  likes  the  world 
to  know  that  he  is  at  work,  so  urges  the  boys  to  be 
more  vehement  in  their  learning  and  acquisition  of 
knowledge. 

When  you  enter  the  room  you  will  see  thirty  to  fifty 
scholars  squatting  on  the  floor  in  small  groups,  swinging 
backwards  and  forwards  as  they  commit  the  sentences  to 
memory  by  shouting  them  out.  As  every  boy  is  learning 
a different  word  or  sentence  you  can  imagine  what  the 
babel  of  sounds  is  like.  So  stirring  is  the  sight  and 
sound  that  you  feel  inclined  to  join  in  and  shout  out  some 
nursery  rhyme  or  something  in  keeping  with  the  bedlam. 
You  will  see  by  the  side  of  the  teacher,  who  is  also 
swinging  and  rolling  out  Arabic  or  Sanskrit,  as  the  case 
may  be,  a bundle  of  nettles:  this  is  in  lieu  of  a cane. 
The  legs  of  the  boys  being  bare  he  is  able  to  inflict 
punishment  with  ease.  Also  you  will  see  by  his  side  a 
die  such  as  is  used  by  the  printers  for  stamping  coloured 
patterns  on  cloth.  This  school  die  is  for  printing  a 
pattern  on  the  legs  of  his  pupils  to  prevent  them  going 
into  the  water,  for  as  none  of  them  can  swim  they  might 
get  drowned.  They  go  on  the  principle  that  only  those 
who  go  on  the  water  or  in  it  can  get  drowned,  therefore  do 
not  go  near  it  and  you  will  be  safe.  This  mark  is  to  show 
the  parents  that  the  schoolmaster  has  taken  proper  care 
of  their  sons,  in  keeping  them  from  the  river. 

254 


Education 

Before  entering  the  schoolroom  your  nose  will  have 
communicated  to  you  the  fact  that  there  are  plenty  of 
dirty  clothes  near  at  hand,  and  on  entering  your  eyes  will 
corroborate  this  fact.  The  teacher  has  certainly  been 
most  successful  in  keeping  his  scholars  from  the  water. 
If  it  happens  to  be  the  winter  time,  when  all  the  windows 
are  fast  closed,  and  every  boy  plus  the  teacher  has  a 
kangri  under  his  pheron,  you  will  have  no  desire  to  spend 
unnecessary  time  over  the  inspection  of  the  school. 

If  a visitors’  book  is  presented  to  you  to  sign  you  will 
probably  write  in  it  that  the  subject  of  hygiene  should  be 
added  to  the  curriculum  of  this  particular  school. 

If  it  is  the  summer  time  when  you  pay  the  school 
a visit  it  is  not  at  all  unlikely  that  you  will  see  the  teacher 
comfortably  tucked  up  in  the  corner  of  the  room  fast 
asleep,  and  the  boys  not  making  so  much  noise  as  usual, 
as  they  are  hoping  that  his  sleep  may  be  a very  long  one, 
with  no  bad  dreams  to  disturb  his  rest. 

It  was  about  forty  years  ago  that  the  Mission  School 
was  started,  where  English  was  taught.  Then  the  State 
followed  suit  with  a school,  and  then  two  schools  which, 
in  the  course  of  time,  became  Middle  Schools,  and  later 
were  raised  to  High  Schools,  and  affiliated  to  the  Punjab 
University.  There  are  now  in  Srinagar  two  State  High 
Schools,  a Mohammedan  High  School  and  the  C.M.S. 
High  School.1 

In  these  the  boys  read  up  to  the  matriculation  exam- 
ination standard  for  the  Punjab  University.  After  passing 
this  they  generally  enter  the  Sir  Pertab  State  College,  in 
Srinagar,  whilst  a few  go  to  one  of  the  colleges  in  Lahore 
or  to  the  Kashmir  State  College  at  Jammu. 

All  education  in  the  state  is  free,  so  that  the  youths  of 

1 At  Baramulla  there  is  the  Roman  Catholic  High  School  and  at 
Islamabad  the  C.M.S.  High  School. 

255 


Education 

Kashmir  have  every  facility  for  acquiring  knowledge 
suitable  for  examinations. 

Examinations,  next  to  rupees,  are  the  god  of  the  so- 
called  educated  class,  for  by  means  of  passing  examina- 
tions the  scholars  hope  to  get  State  service  and  become 
eligible  for  wives  attached  to  some  wealth. 

The  result  of  higher  education  being  free  is  that  the 
boys  from  all  classes  crowd  into  the  schools,  and  every 
year  over  two  hundred  youths  offer  themselves  for  the 
matriculation  examination,  out  of  which  over  one  hundred 
will  pass,  and  out  of  them  forty  or  fifty  will  go  into 
college.  The  remainder  immediately  join  the  great 
crowd  of  unemployed  who  are  for  ever  trying  to  get  into 
State  service,  and  so  in  Kashmir,  as  in  India,  we  have 
a class  of  discontented  unemployables.  They  have  been 
brought  out  of  their  station  in  life,  where  they  could  have 
got  work,  but  now  they  think  themselves  superior  to  any- 
thing that  is  in  the  line  of  manual  labour,  for  they  have 
reached  the  gentlemen  cult  and  aspire  to  a clerkship, 
which,  though  the  pay  is  small,  gives  the  chance  of  pick- 
ings, not  to  mention  the  visions  of  loot  later  on,  according 
to  the  custom  of  their  forefathers. 

A long-felt  want  has  of  late  been  supplied  in  the  shape 
of  a Technical  School,  raised  to  the  memory  of  the  late 
Raja  Sir  Amar  Singh,  K.C.S.I.  It  is  a fine  large  building 
outside  the  city,  where  there  is  plenty  of  room  for  expansion. 
The  State  is  to  be  congratulated  in  having  secured  the 
services  of  Mr  F.  H.  Andrews  as  Principal,  for  what 
Mr  Andrews  does  not  know  in  his  line  of  business  is  not 
worth  knowing.  He  also  tumbled  at  once  to  the  weak 
spot  of  the  Kashmiris  in  general  and  craftsmen  in  parti- 
cular— viz.  want  of  self-respect,  which  shows  itself  in 
shoddy  work.  For  instance,  you  will  buy  a most  beauti- 
fully carved  table  of  walnut  wood,  a joy  to  behold  if  you 

256 


Education 

do  not  inspect  it  too  carefully.  If  you  do,  and  turn  it  up- 
side down,  you  will  see  the  mortises  have  not  been  cut  to 
fit,  the  vacant  space  having  been  filled  with  extra  pieces 
of  wood,  or  putty.  Or  later  on  you  will  probably  find 
the  table  warping,  as  it  has  been  made  from  unseasoned 
wood.  I tell  these  carvers  of  my  visit  to  the  monasteries  in 
Burma,  which  are  richly  carved  outside  as  well  as  inside, 
and  the  figures  are  carved  in  positions  where  no  human 
eyes  can  see  them  as  carefully  as  they  are  carved  in  front, 
for  if  man  cannot  see  them  the  gods  can. 

Mr  Andrews  has  taken  on  a difficult  business,  which 
is  nothing  less  than  to  teach  the  Kashmiris  to  become 
honest  in  their  work,  to  be  satisfied  with  nothing  but  that 
which  is  the  best.  I marvel  at  his  patience  and  deter- 
mination in  winning  through.  He  is,  by  the  way,  also 
arranging  the  wonderful  treasures  discovered  by  Sir 
Auriol  Stein  in  the  buried  cities  in  the  great  Tibetan 
plateau. 

The  education  of  girls  is  of  course  very  far  behind  that 
of  the  boys.  It  was  somewhere  in  the  nineties  that  one 
of  the  Mission  ladies  started  a girls’  school  in  the  city ; it 
was  of  course  by  no  means  popular,  as  it  shocked  the 
prejudices  of  all  proper-thinking  folk  in  Srinagar.  The 
girls  who  were  brave  enough  to  attend  were  very  timid, 
and  their  parents  were  somewhat  on  the  shake,  as  public 
opinion  was  very  much  against  them.  The  school  con- 
tinued until  the  first  Prize  Day.  The  lady  superintendent 
had  invited  some  of  the  European  ladies  of  the  station  to 
come  to  the  function,  thinking  it  would  be  an  encourage- 
ment to  the  girls  and  their  parents.  All  the  girls  were 
assembled  in  the  school  when,  on  the  appearance  of  the 
English  lady  visitors,  someone  in  the  street  shouted  out 
that  the  Europeans  had  come  to  kidnap  the  girls.  Others 
took  up  the  cry,  and  ran  to  the  school  windows  and  told 
r 257 


Education 

the  girls  to  escape  by  jumping  from  the  windows,  the  men 
below  catching  them  as  they  fell.  Before  the  visitors 
could  enter  the  school  the  scholars  had  literally  flown:  the 
girls  of  course  lost  their  heads  on  account  of  the  shoutings 
from  the  street.  It  was  a terrible  moment  for  the  lady 
superintendent  as  she  saw  her  girls  disappear  out  of  the 
windows,  for  she  feared  they  would  be  damaged  by  the 
fall.  It  is  said  that  one  of  the  lady  visitors  was  wearing 
a rather  wonderful  hat,  which  upset  the  equilibrium  of 
the  citizens  who  were  standing  outside  the  school.  Be 
this  as  it  may,  this  episode  ended  the  existence  of  the 
first  girls’  school  in  Srinagar  for  some  time. 

Time  is  a great  healer,  so  once  more  girls  came  to 
school  again,  and  now  there  are,  besides  the  three  Mission 
schools  for  girls,  a State  School,  a Mohammedan  School 
and  five  Hindu  schools  for  girls,  three  of  which  are  now 
Middle  Schools,  and  will  soon  be  High  Schools. 

At  Islamabad,  Miss  Coverdale,  of  C.M.S.,  has  a school 
of  one  hundred  girls,  who  are  very  devoted  to  her,  which 
is  no  wonder  considering  the  love  and  care  that  is  shown 
towards  and  for  them.  The  education  of  the  girls  is  of 
the  first  importance,  for  they  will  be  the  mothers  of  the 
future  generation. 

It  is  the  women  who  at  present  more  than  the  men 
hinder  progress.  They  are  very  conservative,  because  of 
their  ignorance  and  superstition,  and  are  far  more  under 
the  power  of  the  ignorant  priests  than  are  the  men. 
Also,  now  that  the  boys  are  being  educated  and  having 
their  minds  opened,  it  is  most  necessary  that  they  should 
find  wives  like-minded,  instead  of,  as  at  present,  having 
to  marry  ignorant  and  undisciplined  girls,  wrho  ever 
remain  a drag  on  them,  and  whom  they  often  term  “ but 
animals.” 

It  is  fortunate  that  the  C.M.S.  boys’  school  has 

*58 


Education 

attached  to  it  a girls’  school  where  the  sisters  of  the  boys 
can  receive  similar  education.  Miss  Fitze,  who  is  the 
Principal,  has  by  her  devotion,  patience  and  tact  worked 
wonders  amongst  them,  so  that  from  a collection  of  dirty 
and  undisciplined  girls  has  arisen  a school  of  clean,  self- 
respecting  little  maidens,  who  enjoy  life  to  the  full,  and 
will  in  due  time  become  true  helpmates  of  their  brothers’ 
class-mates  in  the  boys’  school.  Then  the  boys  who 
have  cast  off  superstition  and  ignorance,  and  various  other 
evils,  will  have  wives  after  their  own  heart ; and  both 
together  will  train  up  their  children  to  become  useful 
members  of  the  community. 

Then,  but  not  till  then,  can  we  expect  to  see  a clean 
city,  and  the  old  stage  coach  get  a move  on.  There  is 
one  matter  which  needs  setting  light,  and  it  is  this. 
Every  year  the  State  College  turns  out  twenty  or  so 
graduates,  and  some  of  them  continue  their  studies  at 
Lahore,  and  take  their  LL.D.,  etc.  Now  unless  these  men 
are  connected  with  the  high  officials  in  the  State  they 
are  not  given  that  employment  for  which  the  State 
has  itself  fitted  them.  All  high  positions  in  the  State 
are  given  to  non-Kashmiris — i.e.  men  from  the  Punjab, 
Bengal,  etc.  Now  1 do  not  consider  this  is  playing  the 
game. 

India  is  in  these  days  calling  out  loudly,  “ India  for 
the  Indians,”  that  foreigners  must  give  place  to  India’s 
sons,  etc.  If  this  cry  is  right  and  true,  why  should  the 
same  Indian  call  out,  “Kashmir  for  the  Indians”?  Why 
should  not  the  sons  of  Kashmir  have  a place  in  their  own 
country  ? They  certainly  have  not,  for  foreigners  take  all 
their  high  posts.  Let  those  who  wish  for  fair  play  for 
themselves  allow  the  same  treatment  to  others. 


CHAPTER  XXI 


A KASHMIR  MISSION  SCHOOL 

IN  writing  of  the  Mission  School  I fear  the  pronoun 
“ I ” will  obtrude  itself  ad  nauseam , but  I do  not 
know  how  to  avoid  making  use  of  it.  Perhaps  this 
nuisance  may  be  somewhat  mitigated  if  my  readers  will 
bear  in  mind  the  founder  of  the  schools,  the  Rev.  [.  H. 
Knowles,  B.D.,  and  the  ten  years’  spade-work  that  he  had 
to  undertake  in  digging  the  foundations;  then  the  labours 
of  my  European  fellow-workers,  w'ho  have  helped  so  much 
to  strengthen  the  structure,  and  lastly  the  great  body  of 
Kashmiri  teachers,  who  have  worked  most  loyally  and 
cheerfully  in  the  work  of  building  up  the  schools  to  their 
present  position.  In  the  early  years  my  brother  George 
put  in  several  years  of  solid  work,  without  remuneration, 
and  set  an  example  which  has  ever  been  an  inspiration  to 
the  staff,  so  that  whenever  there  has  been  a special  bit 
of  good  work  done  they  say,  that  is  “ Gog  Sahib.” 

Then  there  are  the  following  short-service  men  who 
have  given  two  or  more  years’  welcome  help: — the  Rev. 
C.  L.  E.  Burges,  M.A.  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge, 
scholar  and  wrangler,  whose  chief  work  was  to  instruct  the 
staff  in  the  teaching  of  mathematics;  A.  B.  Tyndale,  M.A. 
of  Magdalen  College,  Oxford,  who  started  a technical 
school,  and  taught  Brahman  boys  carpentry,  thus  breaking 
the  Mohammedan  carpenters’  ring  which  prevented  them 
teaching  Brahmans  their  trade. 

I may  mention  another  difficulty  which  beset  these  bud- 
ding Brahman  carpenters.  One  of  them,  having  arrived  at 

260 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

man’s  estate,  wished  to  take  unto  himself  a wife,  but  no 
Brahman  could  be  induced  to  give  his  daughter  to  a man 
who  was  engaged  in  such  an  ungentlemanly  job  as  that 
of  a carpenter.  He  put  up  with  his  lonely  condition  for 
some  time,  but  finally  the  desire  for  a spouse  proved 
greater  than  love  for  his  adze  and  saw,  so  he  gave  up  his 
unholy  profession  and  took  up  the  work  of  a chaprasi, 
which  was  considered  to  be  an  honourable  profession, 
whereupon  the  Brahmans  smiled  upon  him  and  he  became 
a married  man,  bless  him ! 

Miss  Helen  Burges  taught  the  school  staff  the  kinder- 
garten system,  which  has  proved  so  useful  to  us,  but  at 
the  commencement  created  difficulties,  for  several  parents 
removed  their  sons  from  the  school  on  account  of  it,  for, 
said  they,  “We  send  our  children  to  school  to  learn  and 
not  to  play.” 

The  Rev.  Cecil  Barton,  M.  A.  of  Trinity  Hall,  Cambridge, 
was  associated  with  the  schools  for  several  years,  and 
his  life  and  teaching  have  been  a real  help  to  many, 
and  his  memory  is  still  green.  Then  came  the  Rev.  F.  E. 
Lucey,  M.A.  and  scholar  of  Worcester  College,  Oxford, 
and  stroke  of  his  college  boat,  and  F.  C.  Hall,  Esq. 
The  latter  was  able  to  stay  only  a year,  as  he  was  called 
to  work  elsewhere ; the  former  has  been  my  colleague  for 
many  years,  and  no  one  could  have  a more  loyal  fellow- 
worker;  he  supplies  by  his  brains  and  other  powers  those 
things  in  which  I am  deficient. 

Dr  Kate  Knowles,  M.B.,  London,  for  several  years 
identified  herself  with  the  schools  in  a most  thorough 
manner,  and  did  invaluable  work  amongst  the  women-folk 
belonging  to  the  staff  and  students,  and  helped  them 
and  their  neighbours  to  respect  and  care  for  their  women- 
folk. 

Charles  Musgrave,  M.A.  of  Christ  Church,  Oxford, 

261 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

O.  H.  Robinson,  B.A.  of  Queens’  College,  Cambridge, 
and  S.  T.  Gray,  B.A.  of  Jesus  College,  Cambridge,  stroke 
of  his  college  boat,  followed  one  another  as  short-service 
men.  Charles  Musgrave  went  as  chaplain  to  a Guards’ 
division,  and  afterwards  served  in  a Tank  division.  Oliver 
Robinson  first  joined  up  in  the  war  as  chaplain,  but  later 
joined  the  ranks,  and  gave  his  life  in  the  great  cause. 
Sydney  Gray  left  us  to  do  his  bit,  but  he  came  through 
the  ordeal  safely. 

Rev.  Marcus  Wigram  took  my  place  in  the  school 
during  one  of  my  furloughs,  when  the  school  benefited 
by  his  experience  and  kindly  nature. 

The  last  to  join  the  staff  was  the  Rev.  J.  S.  Dugdale, 
M.A.  of  Rugby  and  Oxford,  who  threw  himself  heart  and 
soul  into  the  school.  We  look  forward  to  welcoming  him 
back  in  the  near  future. 

Whatever  we  Westerners  may  have  accomplished  could 
not  have  been  done  without  the  willing  co-operation  of 
the  Kashmir  staff,  numbering  now  seventy-five,  who  of 
course  know  the  lives  and  characters  of  the  students 
of  the  school  in  a way  that  we  cannot. 

Practically  all  the  staff  are  old  students,  so  we  are  like 
one  large  family  bound  together  with  many  ties.  We 
have  been  in  travail  together,  we  have  fought  together, 
we  have  comforted  one  another  in  defeats,  and  rejoiced 
together  in  our  victories  and  in  our  joys.  Hence  we 
might  choose  for  our  motto  with  truth  that  of  the  old 

P.  & O.  Company,  “ Quis  Separabit  ? ” 

As  in  the  commencement  of  the  hospital  so  was  it  with 
the  school,  many  obstacles  and  difficulties  had  to  be  over- 
come. Parents  were  warned  not  to  permit  their  sons 
to  attend  the  school,  and  as  these  warnings  were  not 
attended  to,  one  or  more  of  the  scholars  were  put  into 
the  lock-up  for  persisting. 


262 


The  Ghat  at  the  C.M.S.  Girls’  School. 

Here  are  seen  typical  waterside  houses.  The  mud  roofs  are  green  with  grass,  often  spangled 
with  flowers.  The  lattice  windows  have  in  one  been  pasted  over  with  paper  to  keep  out  the  cold. 
The  houses  seem  to  be  on  stilts  ; this  is  partly  because  floods  used  to  be  of  frequent  occurrence. 


I'hata  by  Commander]  [£.  C.  Tyndale-Biscoe,  K.N. 

A School  Regatta 

and  a foul.  In  times  not  long  past  none  but  those  of  low  caste  would  handle  an  oar,  and  the  intro- 
duction of  rowing  met  with  no  small  opposition,  but  now,  so  great  has  been  the  change  effected  by 
example  and  precept  that  all  the  students  in  the  school  are  enthusiastic  “ wet-bobs. M 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

Times  change.  So  that  when  the  Rev.  J.  H.  Knowles 
arrived,  in  1881,  he  soon  gathered  together  a goodly 
number  of  pupils,  who  were  eager  to  learn  English,  as 
that  language  began  to  supersede  Persian  in  certain  State 
offices.  When  I arrived,  in  1891,  to  assist  Mr  Knowles 
in  the  school  there  were  250  scholars  attending  school. 
Never  shall  I forget  my  feelings  of  surprise  and  amuse- 
ment and,  to  speak  the  truth,  disgust  also:  surprise,  to 
see  these  bundles  of  human  beings  squatting  011  the  floor, 
most  of  them  with  their  mouths  open,  as  different  from 
that  class  called  boys  as  I had  ever  imagined ; amuse- 
ment, on  account  of  their  ungainly  costumes,  for  every 
one  seemed  to  be  wearing  a very  dirty  nightgown,  and 
their  foreheads  were  plastered  with  red  paint,  and 
numbers  of  them  wore  huge  golden  earrings  which  would 
have  torn  the  lobes  of  their  ears  off  if  they  had  not  been 
supported  with  string  over  the  tops  of  their  heads ; disgust 
at  the  offensive  smell  that  pervaded  that  schoolroom,  for 
practically  every  one  of  these  bundles  had  a concealed 
fire-pot  full  of  hot  charcoal,  which  was  emitting  fumes  of 
carbon  mixed  up  with  unwashen  bodies  and  dirty  clothes 
in  which  they  had  been  sleeping  at  night  as  well  as 
wearing  them  all  day.  It  was  wintry  weather,  for  it  was 
the  month  of  December,  the  city  lay  deep  in  snow,  and  the 
streets  consisted  of  pools  of  black  filth ; hence  their  long 
garments  brought  much  of  the  city  mud  into  the  school. 
Then,  as  I inspected  them  more  closely,  I noticed  that 
their  finger-nails  were  abnormally  long  and  all  in  the  very 
deepest  mourning.  On  inquiry  I found  the  possession  of 
long  nails  to  be  one  of  the  signs  of  gentility,  as  it  was  an 
incontestable  sign  that  they  never  disgraced  themselves 
with  doing  manual  labour  of  any  kind,  and  therefore 
belonged  to  the  (c  sufed  posh  ” — i.e.  white  flower,  or  tip- 
top class,  as  they  were  by  birth  the  highest  caste.  When 

263 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

I had  been  in  the  school  a few  days,  I told  them  I thought 
that  black  nails  were  hardly  in  keeping  with  white  flowers, 
and  insisted  that  clean  nails  should  be  the  complement  of 
the  white-flower  class. 

On  the  occasion  of  my  first  Prize  Day  the  Resident, 
Colonel  David  Barr,  was  present  in  the  school  hall  to 
give  away  the  prizes.  He  called  me  up  to  him,  and  I 
thought  he  wished  to  make  some  pleasing  remark,  when 
he  whispered  in  my  ear:  “What  a dirty  lot  of  boys  you 
have  got,  Biscoe.  I will  give  a prize  for  the  cleanest  boy 
next  year.”  The  boys  were  all  dressed  in  their  best,  and 
had  brushed  themselves  up  for  the  great  occasion,  so 
you  can  imagine  my  chagrin.  I had  forgotten  that 
the  Resident’s  nose  had  not  been  trained  as  mine  had 
been. 

After  my  introduction  to  the  bundles  on  the  floor 
I thought  I would  make  a good  start  by  asking  the 
Principal  of  the  school  to  grant  the  boys  a half-holiday 
in  honour  of  my  arrival  from  the  West  to  teach  them 
something  (which  looked  doubtful).  Mr  Knowles  kindly 
accorded  my  request,  and  announced  the  half-holiday. 
I expected  to  see  the  bundles  wake  up  into  life  and  make 
some  sort  of  joyful  sound,  but  instead  I only  heard 
groans.  I asked  if  that  was  the  way  Kashmiris  cheered, 
for  it  sounded  to  me  uncommonly  like  groans.  I was  told 
that  my  surmise  was  correct,  it  was  groans,  for  the  bundles 
were  much  displeased  at  my  request,  for  had  they  not 
come  to  school  to  learn  ? What  good  were  holidays  ? 
I began  to  understand  that  I had  come  to  Kashmir  to  learn 
rather  than  to  teach,  so  I set  myself  to  study  the  character 
of  the  Kashmir  schoolmasters  and  the  bundles.  It  was 
not  easy,  for  I had  so  much  to  unlearn,  and  also  had 
to  try  to  look  at  things  from  quite  another  point  of 
view. 


264 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

To  start  with,  nearly  all  the  250  or  so  bundles  were 
Brahmans — i.e.  the  tip-top  caste  of  the  Hindus.  They 
were  twice-born,  so  they  told  me.  That  again  means  many 
things — such  as,  the  food  they  might  eat  and  what  they 
might  not  eat.  To  start  with,  they  could  not  eat  with 
any  person  who  was  not  twice-born ; they  could  not  even 
eat  with  their  Maharajah,  should  he  be  kind  enough  to 
invite  them  to  do  so,  for  he  was  of  a lower  caste,  being  of 
the  Kashatri  or  soldier  caste.  They  only  eat  food  cooked 
by  a Brahman,  and  the  cook  must  not  wear  trousers  when 
he  prepares  their  food.  Then  the  place  where  the  food 
is  cooked  must  first  of  all  be  spread  with  cow  dung, 
for  a cow  is  their  holy  animal.  (By  the  way,  I have  dis- 
covered that  fleas  do  not  like  cow  dung,  and  so  avoid 
rooms  spread  with  it,  hence  their  cooking  places  have  one 
great  asset,  for  I know  by  experience  that  fleas  or  other 
such-like  insects  do  not  object  to  the  bodies  and  clothes 
of  the  twice-born.)  Then  they  gave  me  lists  of  food 
that  they  may  not  eat,  such  as  tame  fowls  and  tame  ducks, 
and  their  eggs,  but  they  may  eat  wild  fowl,  and  their 
eggs.  They  may  not  eat  red  apples  or  red  tomatoes,  but 
they  may  eat  yellow  ones. 

I was  surprised  to  find  that  they  might  eat  flesh,  as 
they  are  not  allowed  to  take  life,  but  they  said  that  they 
might  eat  flesh  so  long  as  some  non-Brahman  killed  it. 
But  they  get  terribly  mixed  up  in  their  yea-yeas  and  their 
nay-nays.  I had  two  Brahman  munshis  at  different 
times  who  were  brothers.  On  the  first  occasion  I was 
living  in  a house-boat  on  the  lake,  and  to  my  surprise  saw 
my  Brahman  munshi  fishing,  and  as  I came  up  to  him 
he  said : “ Please,  Sahib,  kill  it  for  me,”  bringing  to 

me  a fish  he  had  caught.  So  I said : “ Why  do  you  not 
kill  it  yourself?”  ££  Oh,  Sahib,  I cannot  kill  it:  Pm  a 
Brahman  and  may  not  take  life.”  “Then  how  is  it 

265 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

you  fish?”  I said.  “Oh,”  said  he,  “there  is  no  law 
against  catching  fish,  the  law  is  against  taking  life.”  So 
my  munshi  caught  fish,  I killed  them  for  him,  and  he 
ate  them. 

Some  months  after  this  incident  I was  up  one  of  the 
valleys,  living  in  a tent,  and  the  brother  of  the  Brahman 
fisherman  was  my  munshi.  On  my  way  to  the  river  to 
fish  I called  to  my  munshi  to  bring  along  a rod  for  himself, 
as  we  were  rather  short  of  food,  and  therefore  a second 
rod  would  be  useful.  “ Sahib,”  said  he,  “ I cannot  do 
this,  for  I am  a Brahman.”  I did  not  say  anything  more 
on  the  subject,  and  he  came  to  see  me  fish,  and  sat  near 
me.  When  I had  hooked  one  I just  swung  it  over  to 
him  at  the  end  of  my  line  and  said : “ Please  knock  it  on 
the  head  for  me,  munshi.”  The  munshi  without  a word 
took  it  in  his  hand  and  killed  it,  and  continued  to  do  this 
service  for  me  every  day  when  I went  fishing,  but  nothing 
could  induce  him  to  catch  a fish  himself,  for  was  he  not 
a Brahman  ? These  two  Brahman  brothers,  it  seemed  to 
me,  might  very  well  enter  into  partnership  in  the  fisher- 
man’s line,  and  do  a good  business. 

It  is  very  difficult  to  understand  the  Brahman’s  ethics. 
Often  it  happens  in  the  summer-time,  when  one  is  taking 
a class,  a mosquito  or  fly  settles  on  one’s  hand.  By  force 
of  habit  I end  its  life  with  a slap.  At  once  the  class  of 
Brahmans  jump  and  cry  out:  “Oh,  oh!  you  have  taken 
life ! you  have  taken  life ! ” and  suck  their  fingers  hard, 
and  then  crack  their  knuckles,  which  is  a sign  of  disgust 
and  horror.  They  have  of  late  given  up  this  custom  of 
showing  horror  at  the  death  of  a fly  or  mosquito,  for  they 
hate  the  retort,  “ Don’t  you  eat  mutton  ? ” which  generally 
follows  their  cries  of  horror.  They  will  not  kill  insects. 
I have  seen  a boy  pick  a flea  off  himself  and  then  quietly 
put  it  in  a place  of  safety,  down  the  neck  of  the  boy  next 

266 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

him,  for  if  he  had  put  it  on  the  floor  it  might  have  been 
trodden  upon,  or  perhaps  have  returned  to  his  own  person. 
This  belief  of  theirs  in  the  preservation  of  pests  is  very 
unfortunate,  tor  our  library  books  and  pictures  are  con- 
tinually destroyed  by  them.  All  houses  are  infested 
with  fish  insects;  no  one  will  kill  them,  they  just  shake 
them  out  on  the  floor,  and  in  a few  minutes  they  are  back 
again  at  their  destructive  work.  It  is  the  same  with  rats 
and  mice,  which  abound.  The  furthest  they  will  go  in 
the  matter  is  to  catch  them  in  traps,  and  then  carry  them 
to  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  and  there  release  them ; 
but  as  people  on  both  sides  of  the  river  play  the  same 
game,  rats  do  not  decrease  greatly. 

In  the  days  of  my  apprenticeship  I learnt  that  I must 
not  touch  my  pupils  for  fear  of  defiling  them,  for  in  a 
forgetful  moment  I would  pat  them  on  the  back  or  head 
to  cheer  them  up,  at  which  they  would  squirm  as  if  I 
were  a leper,  or  one  of  the  untouchables.  As  a matter 
of  fact,  it  was  necessary  to  be  careful  where  you  did  touch 
them,  as  they  nearly  all  were  suffering  from  some  head  or 
skin  disease.  On  one  occasion,  as  I placed  my  hand  on 
a boy’s  head,  he  wearing  only  a skull  cap,  without  the 
usual  pagri,  I said,  “What  have  you  under  your  cap?” 
thinking  I felt  peas,  at  the  same  time  picking  off  his 
cap,  when,  lo  and  behold ! his  head  was  thick  with  small- 
pox ! 1 did  not  pat  his  head  a second  time.  Most  of 

these  ideas  of  theirs  as  to  food  and  holiness  were  of  little 
consequence  to  school  discipline  until  it  came  to  the 
matter  of  their  belief  in  the  unholiness  of  leather,  for  that 
knocked  out  boxing  gloves,  football,  and  even  rowing,  for 
the  leather  on  the  oar  they  jibbed  at,  although  I said 
they  were  not  to  touch  the  leather  button,  but  simply 
grasp  the  oar  and  pull. 

To  get  over  these  difficulties  took  months,  but  to  sur- 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

mount  them  was  imperative,  as  I could  see  that  it  was 
athletics  of  all  sorts  and  every  kind  which  these  bundles 
needed.  One  great  obstacle  was  their  idea  of  gentility. 
They  held  firmly  to  the  belief  that  a gentleman  did  not 
work,  and  to  hurry  in  any  way  was  the  mark  of  a low- 
caste  being.  It  was  quite  true  that  every  person  in 
Srinagar  in  those  days  who  considered  himself  a gentle- 
man would  never  think  of  walking  faster  than  two  miles 
per  hour,  the  pace  of  the  ox.  So  any  kind  of  game 
requiring  energy  was  ruled  out. 

The  reason  why  I made  such  a point  of  games  was 
not  merely  to  wake  them  up,  and  if  possible  to  turn  the 
bundles  into  boys  and  then  into  men,  but  it  was  to  make 
them  fit  for  social  service,  and  to  teach  them  the  joy  of 
service  for  others.  The  reason  of  this  was  threefold, 
(i)  From  what  I knew  of  their  past  history.  (2)  From 
what  I saw  daily  in  the  streets  of  Srinagar,  the  treat- 
ment of  the  weak,  and  of  the  low-caste,  and  the 
impurity  that  was  rampant.  (3)  From  my  desire  as  a 
Christian  to  introduce  them  to  Him  who  taught  all  men 
to  love  one  another  and  show  it  by  practice  and  not  by 
talk. 

Those  Brahman  bundles  in  the  school  were  the  sons 
or  grandsons  of  those  officials  who  had  bullied  and 
squeezed  the  Mohammedan  peasants  for  years  past, 
and  their  large  houses  in  the  city,  with  all  their 
wealth,  were  a standing  witness  to  their  looting  powers, 
for  the  salary  they  received  from  the  State  was  quite 
insignificant. 

Now  their  parents  had  sent  them  to  school,  so  that 
they  might  get  State  employment  and  follow  in  the  steps 
of  their  forefathers,  and  by  aid  of  their  English  education 
they  might  even  go  one  better  than  their  progenitors. 
Now  how  was  one  to  combat  this?  By  teaching  them  to 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

hate  wrong  and  love  right,  to  hate  oppression  and  love  to 
protect  the  weak,  in  fact  to  be  the  exact  opposite  to  their 
fathers. 

Now  talking  would  not  accomplish  this,  nor  would  read- 
ing books.  They  must  be  taught  to  love  right  by  doing 
right,  and  to  hate  evil  by  fighting  evil,  and  to  suffer  in 
doing  so.  Now  bundles  could  not  do  this,  therefore  the 
bundles  must  be  turned  into  boys  by  athletic  exercises, 
and  athletic  boys  turned  into  manly  and  true  citizens  by 
continued  acts  of  kindness. 

Now  in  such  a city  as  Srinagar  there  was  no  lack  of 
opportunities  for  knights-errant,  for  as  I have  already 
pointed  out  it  is  women  who  have  to  give  way  to  men  in 
the  streets ; it  is  women  who  have  to  fetch  and  carry 
water  in  their  heavy  earthen  pots;  it  is  women  who  are 
done  down  continually  because  they  are  only  women,  and 
even  the  poor  madwomen  are  misused  by  the  filthy  bipeds 
after  dark. 

Who  can  see  the  treatment  that  the  animals  receive 
in  the  East  without  wrath  ? Overladen,  starved,  with 
sore  backs  of  every  description  and  yet  carrying  riders 
or  loads  on  them.  Cows  and  donkeys  in  the  winter- 
time fight  with  the  pariah  dogs  for  the  filth  in  the 
streets. 

Then  there  is  the  immorality  after  dark,  which  no  one 
would  tackle,  because  one  should  not  stir  up  dirt.  Well, 
it  is  anyway  the  duty  of  a head  of  a school  to  protect  his 
boys. 

How  could  any  of  these  things  be  tackled  with 
bundles?  The  dry  bones  must  be  made  to  live  and  be 
made  strong.  Athletics  will  create  the  muscle  and  skill 
for  self-defence,  and  social  service  give  the  desire  for  the 
defence  of  others. 

Now  all  this  was  to  lead  to  Him  who  taught  us  social 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

service,  and  who  can  give  strength  to  carry  it  through, 
for  the  fight  has  to  be  one  to  the  finish ; and  the  fight 
while  they  are  young  and  in  the  school  is  nothing  com- 
pared to  what  it  will  be  in  the  bigger  life  outside  the 
school  in  a country  like  Kashmir.  By  nothing  but  by 
the  power  of  God  will  they  be  able  to  carry  on  this  war- 
fare against  the  powers  of  evil.  I soon  discovered  that  one 
had  to  commence  on  an  infinitely  lower  level  in  this  school 
than  I ever  imagined. 

To  start  with,  lying  was  considered  to  be  one  of  the 
arts  to  be  practised.  A champion  liar  was  more  honoured 
in  this  country  than  a champion  boxer  would  be  in  an 
English  Public  School.  I can  remember  my  surprise  and 
joy  when  a Brahman  boy  told  me  the  truth,  in  the  face 
of  punishment.  It  was  the  first  case  of  its  kind  after  I 
had  been  in  the  school  for  five  years.  During  the  next 
year  three  boys  spoke  the  truth  when  naturally  they 
should  have  lied,  and  in  the  seventh  year  five  boys 
rejoiced  my  heart  by  their  veracity.  After  that  year 
they  continued  to  improve,  so  that  now  I rarely  have 
a lie  told  me,  in  fact  as  rarely  as  I had  the  truth  from 
their  lips  in  the  early  days. 

Of  course  I am  always  careful  not  to  ask  a boy  a direct 
question  when  there  is  punishment  at  the  back.  I 
generally  tell  him  to  give  me  his  answer,  say  half-an-hour 
hence,  and  this  gives  him  time  to  pull  himself  together. 
Of  course  if  I had  given  this  respite  in  the  early  days  it 
would  have  only  meant  a more  elaborated  falsehood,  with 
many  witnesses  to  prove  innocency. 

Please  do  not  imagine  from  this  that  the  boys  have 
given  up  lying  altogether,  but  they  have  ceased  to  glory 
in  it,  and  they  have  learnt  that  it  pays  better  to  speak 
the  truth  at  school  than  to  lie.  Yet  I can  say  this 
with  truth,  that  1 know  of  several  old  boys  whose 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

word  I can  accept  with  as  much  confidence  as  that  of  a 
Britisher. 

And  for  the  last  few  years  in  the  school  boys  have 
actually  blushed  when  they  lied,  which  of  course  shows 
that  they  possessed  a conscience.  A great  discovery  for 
a Kashmiri. 


271 


CHAPTER  XXII 


a kashmir  mission  school  ( continued ) 

TELLING  tales  of  one  another,  generally  known 
as  “ sneaking,”  was  as  troublesome  as  it  was 
universal.  It  existed  not  only  among  the  school- 
boys but  among  the  school  staff ; in  the  public  offices;  it 
was  everywhere,  the  practice  of  doing  your  neighbour 
down,  if  there  was  any  chance  of  benefiting  yourself 
thereby. 

A British  officer  who  was  head  of  a large  State  office 
told  me  one  day  that  he  had  no  less  than  forty  anonymous 
letters  in  two  weeks  from  his  clerks,  with  evil  tales  of 
each  other,  and  said  that  he  did  not  know  how  to  deal 
with  the  nuisance.  This  fact  aroused  me  to  action,  for 
I felt  at  all  costs  I must  tackle  the  matter  properly  in  the 
school,  as  the  only  hope  for  the  future.  So  I at  once 
made  it  a penal  offence  for  anyone  to  come  to  me  with  a 
tale  against  another  unless  he  was  prepared  to  fight  with 
him  in  the  playground  with  single-sticks.  This  order 
produced  the  desired  effect  in  double-quick  time,  as  it 
was  found  to  be  a somewhat  painful  experience  to 
sneak. 

This  wholesome  fear  of  the  ordeal  by  battle  produced 
some  amusing  scenes  at  times.  Here  is  one.  A strong 
Brahman  youth,  a member  of  the  football  team,  com- 
plained to  me  that  a certain  Christian,  who  was  a Pathan 
by  race,  had  attacked  him  and  his  friends  with  his  knife 
(the  Pathans  are  handy  men  with  their  knives),  and  asked 
my  protection.  So  I first  called  one  of  the  Brahman 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

teachers  and  asked  him  if  he  knew  anything  of  this 
matter. 

He  said  that  he  did,  that  it  was  true,  but  there  was 
a reason  for  the  Pathan’s  action.  The  Pathan  being  the 
only  Christian  in  a class  of  thirty  was  harassed  by  them, 
and  taunted  for  being  a Christian,  and  when  leaving 
school  this  class  would  add  to  their  taunts  by  throwing 
stones  and  mud  at  him.  The  Pathan,  having  so  many  to 
deal  with,  drew  his  knife  and  went  for  them  in  true  Pathan 
fashion.  I called  the  Pathan,  and  asked  him  if  it  was  true 
that  he  tried  to  knife  his  class-fellows,  and  he  answered 
straight  that  it  was  perfectly  true,  as  it  was  his  only  way 
of  getting  rid  of  so  many  adversaries  at  once.  I answered 
that  fists  are  the  schoolboy’s  weapons,  and  not  a knife, 
which  I threw  out  of  the  window,  to  be  out  of  harm’s 
way,  into  the  river.  I then  called  up  the  Brahman 
accuser  and  said  that  as  he  had  complained  he  must  fight 
the  Pathan  himself. 

So  single-sticks  were  produced,  and  as  I handed  one 
to  the  Pathan  I said : “ Are  you  willing  to  fight  this 
Pandit?”  (Pandit,  which  means  a learned  man,  is 
synonymous  for  Brahman  in  Kashmir.)  He  grasped  the 
stick  with  zest,  exclaiming : “I  am ! ” 1 held  out  the 

second  stick  to  the  Pandit  and  asked  if  he  was  equally 
ready,  but  he  would  not  take  it,  saying:  “I  am  not  a 
Christian.  I do  not  know  how  to  fight.”  So,  as  he  would 
not  stand  up  like  a man,  he  was  made  to  apologise  in 
public,  by  taking  off  his  pagri  and  placing  his  bare  head 
at  the  feet  of  his  adversary. 

This  ended  all  future  trouble ; in  that  class  the  Pathan 
was  never  molested  again  for  being  a Christian  or  any- 
thing else.  The  single-stick  is  a most  excellent  article 
for  healing  divisions  and  many  other  moral  sicknesses. 

One  of  the  most  difficult  habits  to  correct  was  the 


s 


273 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

universal  foul  language,  for  there  was  no  high  ideal  to 
which  to  appeal.  To  make  a start,  I naturally  said  to  the 
boy:  “You  would  not  like  your  father  to  hear  you  use 
such  language  ! ” The  boy  simply  smiled  at  my  ignorance, 
and  answered : “ Why,  my  father  always  uses  it.” 

“Well,”  I answered,  “anyway,  your  mother  would  not.” 
Again  a smile  of  compassion  pervaded  the  boy’s  face  as 
he  answered  : “ Why,  it  was  my  mother  who  taught  me.” 
So  then  I said : “ Does  your  religion  sanction  this 
foulness  ? ” He  answered : “ Our  priests  always  use 
this  language.”  This  last  statement  of  the  boy  was 
corroborated  by  a Brahman  judge,  who,  when  I brought 
to  him  a case  of  gross  immorality  on  the  part  of  some 
priests,  wishing  to  have  them  punished,  said:  “You  must 
remember,  Mr  Biscoe,  that  the  Hindu  law  sanctions  a 
certain  amount  of  impurity.”  On  my  pressing  the  case  in 
point  he  allowed  that  it  exceeded  the  leniency  of  Hindu 
law,  so  I congratulated  him. 

To  alter  the  language  of  the  boys  meant  raising  the 
whole  tone  of  Hindu  morals,  which  was  a large  order. 
Later  on  you  will  see  how  we  met  this  evil  in  a grave 
and  more  difficult  form. 

The  Brahmans  are  a proud  people,  for  besides  being 
twice  born  they  hold  that  they  are  part  of  God.  The 
boys  told  me  that  they  could  not  commit  sin,  and  when 
they  were  caught  at  their  various  acts  of  transgression 
which  I considered  against  the  moral  law  they  always 
said  they  were  only  following  the  custom  of  their  fathers 
and  forefathers,  and  therefore  felt  no  shame. 

How  could  one  shame  them?  They  felt  no  shame  at 
their  dirt  of  body,  clothes  and  language,  or  of  their  lying 
or  cowardice.  They  were  Brahmans,  and  that  was 
sufficient  for  all  things. 

I should  say  when  1 talk  of  boys  that  the  top  class  consisted 

274 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

of  beings  from  eighteen  years  of  age  to  twenty-four  years ; 
many  of  them  grew  black  beards,  and  were  married,  and 
therefore  were  fairly  set  in  their  ideas.  Again,  a very 
irritating  idea  they  held,  and  that  was  their  belief  in 
their  own  superior  knowledge.  I could  not  get  them  to 
own  that  they  did  not  know  those  things  which  they  did 
not  know.  They  always  wished  to  argue,  and  would 
never  own  up  when  a fact  was  demonstrated  to  them. 
I had  a brain-wave.  I saw  boxing-gloves — and  these 
same  boxing-gloves  stopped  argument,  and  all  the  rest 
of  it,  which  nothing  else  would  have  done.  It  all  began 
and  ended  in  one  morning. 

A certain  black-beard  said  that  he  knew  everything. 
Did  he  know  how  to  box?  Yes,  of  course  he  did.  So 
I asked  him  if  he  could  prevent  me  hitting  his  nose  if 
I wished  to  do  so ; he,  of  course,  said  yes,  he  could.  So 
I said : “ Prove  it.”  The  boxing-gloves  were  brought 
out,  and  I was  able  in  a few  seconds  to  demonstrate  that 
for  once  he  did  not  know. 

So  clearly  had  he  learnt  that  lesson  that  when  I ex- 
pressed my  wish  to  continue  the  demonstration  he 
pleaded  most  forcibly  that  he  could  not  defend  his  nose 
and  knew  nothing  whatever  of  this  painful  game. 

I had  won  through,  for  whenever  in  future  any  of  the 
black-beards  wished  to  argue  I only  had  to  say : “ Can 
you  box?”  Would  that  one  could  have  conquered  all 
the  other  difficulties  with  such  ease ! 

Rome  was  not  built  in  a day,  and  these  Brahmans  were 
not  made  into  self-respecting  gentlemen  in  a day.  What 
was  needed  to  start  with  was  self-respect  instead  of  this 
self-conceit.  Talking  would  never  do  it ; it  must  be  by 
action.  So  action  they  were  to  have,  and  plenty  of  it. 

As  I said  before,  we  commenced  with  athletics,  which 
were  to  be  the  precursor  of  social  service,  which  would 

275 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

teach  them  unselfishness— after  which  all  the  rest  would 
follow  naturally.  But  how  were  we  to  begin  athletic 
games  with  those  who  stoutly  refused  to  play  them  ? 

“ For,”  said  they,  “ if  we  play  football,  or  row,  etc., 
we  shall  grow  muscle  on  our  bodies,  and  then  we  shall 
become  low-caste  folk  like  the  boatmen  and  coolies. 
Moreover,  if  we  play  games  we  shall  have  to  run  about 
and  be  energetic,  and  people  will  laugh  at  us,  for  gentle- 
men must  not  hurry.” 

The  story  of  how  we  commenced  football  will  have  to 
suffice  to  show  how  the  difficulties  of  introducing  athletics 
were  overcome. 

It  was  in  the  autumn  of  1891,  when  1 returned  from 
Bombay  with  Mrs  Tyndale-Biscoe,  that  amongst  our 
luggage  we  brought  a football,  the  first  that  our  school- 
boys had  seen.  I remember  well  the  pleasure  with  which 
I brought  that  first  football  to  the  school,  and  the  vision 
that  I had  of  the  boys’  eagerness  to  learn  this  new 
game  from  the  West.  Well,  I arrived  at  the  school, 
and  at  a fitting  time  held  up  this  ball  to  their  view,  but 
alas ! it  aroused  no  such  interest  or  pleasure  as  I had 
expected. 

“What  is  this?”  said  they. 

“ A football,”  said  I. 

“ What  is  the  use  of  it  ? ” 

“ For  playing  with.  It  is  an  excellent  game,  and  will 
help  to  make  you  strong.” 

“Shall  we  gain  any  rupees  by  playing  it?” 

“ No.” 

“Then  we  do  not  wish  to  play  the  game.  What  is  it 
made  of?” 

“ Leather.” 

“Then  we  cannot  play;  we  cannot  touch  it.  Take  it 
away,  for  it  is  unholy  to  our  touch.” 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

You  will  see  that  matters  had  not  turned  out  as  my 
optimism  had  led  me  to  expect. 

“ All  right,”  said  I.  “ Rupees  or  no  rupees,  holy  or 
unholy,  you  are  going  to  play  football  this  afternoon  at 
three-thirty,  so  you  had  better  leant  the  rules  at  once.” 
And  immediately,  with  the  help  of  the  blackboard,  1 was 
able  to  instruct  them  as  to  their  places  on  the  field,  and 
the  chief  points  and  rules  of  the  game. 

Before  the  end  of  school  I perceived  that  there  would 
be  trouble,  so  I called  the  teachers  together  and  ex- 
plained to  them  my  plans  for  the  afternoon.  They  were 
to  arm  themselves  with  single-sticks,  picket  the  streets 
leading  from  the  school  to  the  playground,  and  prevent 
any  of  the  boys  escaping  en  route.  Everything  was  ready, 
so  at  three  o’clock  the  porter  had  orders  to  open  the 
school  gate.  The  boys  poured  forth,  and  I brought  up  the 
rear  with  a hunting-crop.  Then  came  the  trouble ; for  once 
outside  the  school  compound  they  thought  they  were  going 
to  escape;  but  they  were  mistaken.  We  shooed  them 
down  the  streets  like  sheep  on  their  way  to  the  butcher’s. 
Such  a dirty,  smelling,  cowardly  crew  you  never  saw.  All 
were  clothed  in  the  long  nightgown  sort  of  garment  I have 
described  before,  each  boy  carrying  a fire-pot  under  his  gar- 
ment and  so  next  to  his  body.  This  heating  apparatus  has 
from  time  immemorial  taken  the  place  of  healthy  exercise. 

We  dared  not  drive  them  too  fast  for  fear  of  their 
tripping  up  (as  several  of  them  were  wearing  clogs)  and 
falling  with  their  fire-pots,  which  would  have  prevented 
their  playing  football  for  many  days  to  come. 

At  length  we  are  safely  through  the  city  with  a goodly 
crowed  following  and  arrive  at  the  playground.  Sides  are 
made  up,  the  ground  is  cleared  and  ready,  the  ball  is  in 
the  centre,  and  all  that  remains  is  for  the  whistle  to  start 
the  game. 


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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

The  whistle  is  blown,  but  the  ball  does  not  move. 

Thinking  that  the  boys  had  not  understood  my  order, 
I tell  them  again  to  kick  off  the  ball  immediately  after 
hearing  the  whistle.  I blow  again,  but  with  no  result. 
I notice  that  the  boys  are  looking  at  one  another  and  at 
the  crowd  of  spectators  with  unmistakable  signs  of  fear 
and  bewilderment  on  their  faces. 

On  my  asking  them  the  cause,  they  say:  “ We  cannot 
kick  this  ball,  for  it  is  an  unholy  ball  and  we  are  holy 
Brahmans.”  I answer  them  by  taking  out  my  watch  and 
giving  them  five  minutes  to  think  over  the  situation : at  the 
expiration  of  the  time,  I tell  them,  something  will  happen 
if  the  ball  does  not  move.  We  all  wait  in  silence,  an 
ominous  silence.  The  masters  armed  with  their  single- 
sticks are  at  their  places  behind  the  goals. 

Time  is  j ust  up,  and  I call  out : “ Five  seconds  left — four 
— three — two — one.  Kick ! ” The  ball  remains  stationary ! 
My  last  card  had  now  to  be  played,  and  I shout  towards 
the  right  and  left  goals  : “ Sticks ! ” 

Sticks  won  the  day,  for  as  soon  as  the  boys  see  the 
sticks  coming  the  ball  bounds  in  the  air,  the  spell  is 
broken,  and  all  is  confusion.  Puggarees  are  seen  streaming 
yards  behind  the  players,  entangling  their  legs ; their 
shoes  and  clogs  leave  their  feet  as  they  vainly  try  to 
kick  the  ball,  and  turn  round  and  round  in  the  air  like 
Catherine  wheels  descending  on  any  and  everybody’s 
head.  The  onlookers  who  have  followed  us  from  the  city 
are  wildly  excited,  for  they  have  never  in  their  lives  before 
seen  anything  like  it — holy  Kashmiri  Brahman  boys  (in 
dirty  nightgowns)  tumbling  over  one  another,  using  hands 
and  legs  freely  to  get  a kick  at  a leather  ball. 

Well,  as  I said  before,  all  was  noise  and  excitement, 
when  all  of  a sudden  the  storm  is  succeeded  by  a dead 
calm : the  game  ceases,  the  Brahmans,  both  players  and 

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onlookers,  are  all  sucking  their  fingers  for  all  they  are 
worth  (a  Kashmiri  way  of  showing  amazement),  and  all 
eyes  are  turned  towards  one  of  the  players  who  is  a 
picture  of  misery.  And  no  wonder,  for  this  unholy  piece 
of  leather  had  bounded  straight  into  this  holy  one’s  face, 
had  actually  kissed  his  lips.  He  had  never  before  in  his 
life  felt  the  smack  of  a football,  and  certainly  never 
dreamed  of  such  a catastrophe.  He  thought  all  his  front 
teeth  were  knocked  out  and  that  his  nose  was  gone  for 
ever.  He  would  touch  his  mangled  (?)  features,  but  he 
dared  not.  Once  or  twice  he  essayed  to  do  so,  but  his 
heart  failed  him.  His  face  was  defiled,  so  that  he  could 
not  do  what  he  would,  and  w'ould  not  do  what  he  could. 
He  did  the  next  best  thing,  which  was  to  lift  up  his  voice 
and  weep,  and  this  he  did  manfully.  This  moment  was  a 
terrible  one  for  all  concerned,  and  especially  for  me,  for 
now'  all  eyes  were  directed  to  the  primary  cause  of  all 
this  misery. 

What  was  I to  do?  I was  not  prepared  for  such  a 
turn  of  events.  I could  “ shoo  ” an  unwilling  school  to 
the  playground,  I could  make  unwilling  feet  kick,  but 
how'  could  I make  an  unholy  face  holy  ? Fortunately  the 
idea  of  water  came  into  my  distracted  mind,  and  I said  : 
“ Take  the  fool  down  to  the  canal  at  once  and  wash  him.” 
Immediately  the  thoughts  and  the  eyes  of  the  victim’s 
sympathisers  were  diverted  to  the  cleansing  wraters  and 
their  magical  effect  on  the  outraged  features  of  the  body. 
On  their  return  I placed  the  ball  again  in  the  centre,  blew 
my  whistle  and  the  ball  was  kicked  off.  All  was  excite- 
ment once  more,  and  the  game  was  played  with  enthusiasm 
until  I called  “ Time  ! ” 

Everyone  left  the  field  and  scattered  to  various  parts  of 
the  city,  to  tell  their  parents  and  neighbours  of  the  great 
“ tamasha  ” they  had  witnessed  or  in  w hich  they  had 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

taken  part.  The  remarks  made  about  me  and  the  school 
in  their  homes  over  their  curry  and  rice  that  night  were, 
I expect,  not  all  favourable. 

I have  been  told  more  than  twice  that  I behaved  in  an 
un-Christianlike  manner,  and  that  I had  no  business  to 
force  football  or  any  other  game  upon  boys  against  their 
will. 

Well,  we  cannot  all  see  alike,  and  it  is  just  as  well  that 
we  cannot,  otherwise  Rome  would  never  have  been  built 
and  there  would  not  be  much  progress  on  this  terrestrial 
sphere.  That  game  introduced  the  leather  ball  to 
Srinagar  and  to  the  holy  Brahman  who  lives  therein,  and 
although  for  the  first  year  my  presence  was  a necessity 
at  every  game,  football  came  to  stay. 

Now  all  the  various  schools  in  the  city  have  their 
football  teams,  and  in  all  parts  of  the  city  you  see  boys 
playing  this  game  with  a make-shift  for  a football. 

This  year  I watched  an  inter-class  match,  most  keenly 
contested,  the  referee  being  not  a teacher  but  a school- 
boy. His  decision  was  not  once  disputed,  nor  was  there 
any  altercation  between  any  of  the  players;  it  was  a truly 
sporting  game. 

Now  for  something  more  important  than  games. 

Opportunities  for  social  service  in  a city  like  Kashmir 
are  endless,  so  we  tackled  the  most  obvious  first — viz. 
the  distress  of  the  owners  of  houses  when  their  property 
took  fire;  and  in  the  early  days  of  which  we  are  writing 
I suppose  there  must  have  been  as  many  fires  in  the 
city  within  twelve  months  as  there  are  .days  in  the 
year. 

Before  writing  an  account  of  our  first  fire  I must  say 
that  amongst  other  things  which  militated  against  social 
service,  besides  it  being  considered  coolie  work  and  the 
like,  the  boys  objected  to  giving  up  any  of  their  time  in 

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school,  for  Eastern  boys  love  books  as  the  Western  boys 
love  games. 

Then  parents  were  also  quite  against  what  they  call 
waste  of  time  in  sports.  The  boys  were  sent  to  school 
to  pass  examinations,  and  that  is  supposed  to  be  the  aim 
and  end  of  school  life.  Most  native  schoolmasters  have 
the  same  belief,  and  take  no  interest  whatever  in  games. 
Games  are  useless  to  them,  whereas  passing  examinations 
means  Government  employment  and  a rich  wife. 

Examinations  have  been  the  curse  of  education  in 
India,  for  it  has  turned  out,  and  is  doing  so  still,  a class 
of  beings  with  swelled  heads,  who  are  a curse  to  the  land, 
for  they  can  talk  and  make  speeches  without  end,  and 
do  all  they  can  to  pull  down  the  ladder  up  which  they 
climbed.  Of  true  education  and  forming  of  character 
they  know  nothing  and  care  less. 

It  seems  strange  to  me  that  after  all  the  educational 
authorities  have  not  found  a more  suitable  education  for 
Indians.  It  has  created  a class  which  continues  to  despise 
manual  labour,  and  panders  to  their  desires  for  Govern- 
ment employment,  in  which  there  are  not  enough  billets 
to  satisfy  them.  Therefore  the  country  is  crowded  with 
discontented  half-educated  men  who  give  trouble  to  the 
Government  which  has  given  them  this  education  at 
schools  and  colleges  practically  for  nothing.  Well,  that 
same  spirit  which  I found  in  the  boys  and  parents  of  the 
boys,  and  which  I have  been  trying  to  fight  ever  since,  still 
remains,  so  until  I can  find  anything  better  we  are  going 
in  hard  for  “ social  service,”  to  teach  the  youth  of  this 
country  their  duty  towards  their  country  and  fellow- 
citizens.  So  I here  describe  our  first  attempt  at  fires. 

On  our  looking  out  of  the  windows  from  our  exalted 
position  over  the  river  we  see  crowds  eagerly  pressing 
towards  the  scene  of  fire,  for  on  such  occasions  there  is 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

always  a fair  chance  of  profiting  by  a neighbour’s  loss. 
The  trumpet-blower,  a policeman’s  form,  we  see  silhou- 
etted against  the  sky,  as  he  stands  aloft  on  the  roof 
of  a house  blowing  for  all  he  is  worth.  The  owner  of 
the  burning  house,  and  those  of  the  houses  touching  it, 
are  yelling,  screaming  and  dancing,  as  is  their  custom  on 
such  occasions. 

The  scholars,  having  taken  in  the  situation,  are  quite 
blast,  and  squat  down  once  more  to  continue  their  lessons, 
which  to  them  are  far  more  interesting  than  a dozen  fires, 
for  they  have  seen  them  often  enough.  But  we  of  the 
West  think  differently  from  the  East  on  such  occasions. 
We  understand  that  God  has  given  us  muscle  as  well  as 
brains,  and  now  is  the  time  to  make  use  of  the  former, 
so,  choosing  the  biggest  of  the  sucking  scholars,  we  order 
books  down  and  loins  girt,  and,  on  passing  out,  we  arm 
ourselves  with  single-sticks,  as  they  come  in  useful  some- 
times. We  head  for  the  fire,  a party  from  thirty  to  forty 
strong.  I shall  never  forget  what  I then  saw;  it  has 
been  impressed  deep  on  my  brain  without  any  sucking  or 
shouting.  Such  a woeful  sight  I never  wash  to  see  again. 

There,  straight  in  front  of  us,  was  a house  in  a blaze. 
The  only  occupants  of  it  at  the  time  w^ere  women,  for  the 
men  were  aw^ay.  There  stood,  or  rather  danced,  an  old 
woman  mad  wfith  excitement,  imploring  the  bipeds  around 
to  help  her  save  her  property  (no  houses  in  the  city  are 
insured,  so  a fire  means  loss  of  everything).  There  were 
crow'ds  of  turbaned  beings  on  all  sides.  Most  of  them 
had  taken  up  positions  so  that  they  might  enjoy 
thoroughly  the  sight,  and  see  it  through.  The  particular 
bipeds  to  whom  this  frantic  woman  was  chiefly  addressing 
her  remarks  were  a bunch  of  things  squatting  on  the 
ground  wfith  their  mouths  open,  and  with  hands  shading 
their  eyes  from  the  heat. 


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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

The  woman  implored  these  squatters  to  come  to  help 
her,  and  to  show  her  agony  she  took  hold  of  the  upper 
part  of  her  garment  at  the  neck  in  both  hands  and  rent 
it  right  down  the  centre,  nearly  dividing  her  garment  in 
halves.  These  deaf  adders  took  not  the  least  notice ; 
they  simply  looked  beyond  her.  She  then  put  both 
hands  to  her  head,  and  with  one  lusty  pull  out  came 
two  large  tufts  of  hair,  which  she  held  out  theatrically 
towards  the  men,  again  imploring  their  help;  but  it  was 
of  no  use.  She  then  said : “ I will  give  you  money  for 
every  pot  of  water  you  will  bring.”  Then,  and  not  till 
then,  did  these  bipeds  show  any  intelligence.  “ How 
much  will  you  give?”  said  they.  She  answered  “So 
much,”  at  which  the  bipeds  relaxed  once  more  into  their 
vacant  stare.  The  old  woman  roared,  danced  and 
screamed,  doubling  her  price  for  a pot  of  water.  That 
evidently  satisfied  them,  for  they  moved  at  it.  I suppose, 
they  went  off  to  find  pots  with  which  to  make  some  money. 

All  this  was  enacted  in  shorter  time  far  than  it  takes 
me  to  put  it  on  paper. 

The  glare,  the  heat,  the  roar  of  the  flames,  the  screams 
of  the  women,  the  boo-boos  of  the  crowd  in  delight  as 
the  flames  leap  higher  and  higher,  and  the  bonny,  brave, 
blasj,  blue-coated  constable  from  his  exalted  position 
blowing,  blaring  and  bellowing  his  brass  braying  bugle 
to  let  all  good  citizens  know  that  there  was  something  in 
the  wind — it  was  a sight  not  easily  to  be  forgotten.  The 
thought  in  my  mind,  naturally,  was  how  to  procure  pots 
with  which  to  conduct  the  water  from  the  river,  which  was 
close  by,  to  the  burning  building.  Nowf,  as  luck  would 
have  it,  we  sawr  a barge  full  of  pots  coming  slowly  up- 
stream, so  I put  some  coin  into  the  hands  of  the  boys 
with  which  to  secure  the  pots,  but  the  boys  returned  to 
me  immediately,  saying  that  the  bargee  would  not  sell 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

them  any,  and  had  steered  his  boat  out  into  the  stream  to 
show  his  mind  on  the  subject,  no  doubt  hoping  thereby 
to  send  up  the  price  of  his  goods.  But  we  were  one  too 
many  for  him.  His  boat  was  boarded,  and  we  took  all 
the  pots  we  needed.  The  bargee  relieved  his  feelings 
by  giving  tongue  to  his  choicest  vocabulary,  giving  us 
a list  of  all  the  great  men  in  the  land  to  whom  he 
would  report  us  for  this  gross  act  of  brigandage.  We 
told  him  that  he  was  quite  right,  but  at  the  present 
moment  his  pots  were  in  great  request,  and  that  we  had 
all  that  we  required.  We  at  once  formed  a line  from 
the  river  to  the  house  and  passed  up  a grateful  stream  of 
water. 

Having  started  the  boys,  I turned  my  attention  to  the 
crowd  of  sightseers,  and  asked  them  to  lend  a hand  with 
the  boys,  naturally  expecting  that  they  would  follow  our 
lead.  But  no  such  thing — the  crowd  sat  and  stared  at  us, 
being  highly  entertained,  and  then  commenced  jeering. 
The  Brahmans  amongst  them  told  our  boys  to  desist,  as 
they  were  lowering  their  position  as  nature’s  gentlemen, 
twice -born,  and,  what  was  more,  dishonouring  the 
Brahman  name.  1 recall  gratefully  one  exception,  and 
that  was  an  officer  of  a Gurkha  regiment,  a Hindu,  who 
called  out  to  some  sepoys  who  were  following  him,  “ This 
is  what  I call  Christianity,”  and  he  gave  a word  of  cheer 
to  the  boys. 

The  boys  stood  the  reproaches  of  their  elders  for  some 
time,  but  a few,  who  valued  their  gentility  more  than 
their  humanity,  slunk  away  when  I was  not  looking  and 
joined  the  crowd  at  a respectful  distance,  some  at  a very 
respectful  distance. 

At  last  my  patience  gave  out,  and  I collared  several  of 
the  jeerers  and  put  them  in  line  with  our  lot,  making 
them  hand  along  the  earthen  pots.  Here  our  single-sticks 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

came  into  use,  for  I placed  certain  of  the  boys  as  officers 
over  the  impressed  men  to  keep  them  going  with  their 
wands  of  office.  Fortunately  I had  two  Bengali  Christians, 
two  Parsees  and  the  son  of  a major  in  his  Highness’ 
army,  who  were  of  different  stuff  to  the  Kashmiris;  they 
made  full  use  of  their  positions  and  kept  the  pots  moving. 
After  a while  the  Governor  of  the  city  arrived  with  some 
officials  and  a small  manual  fire-pump.  They  laughed 
heartily  at  seeing  us  at  work,  but  nevertheless  backed  us 
up,  which  made  the  work  easier  for  the  boys.  One  of 
our  self-imposed  tasks  was  to  protect  the  property  that 
we  had  saved  from  being  annexed  by  a certain  class  of 
citizens  somewhat  related  to  Sir  Robert  Peel,  but  not  in 
a very  direct  line.  These  worthies  had  arrived  on  the 
scene  with  an  empty  barge,  and  were  busy  removing  all 
movables  into  it,  in  order  that  they  might  be  taken  to 
a very  safe  place,  out  of  the  way  of  naughty  men.  Over 
these  gallant  gentlemen  boys  were  placed,  and  the  wands 
of  office  again  proved  useful. 

Well,  all  things  in  this  world  have  an  ending,  and  this 
fire  was  no  exception,  for  it  got  tired  of  blazing,  not 
liking  the  water,  and  smoked  instead.  The  woman  and 
bipeds  had  yelled  and  danced  themselves  dog-tired,  and 
settled  down  to  mourn  and  weep  as  they  sat  and  watched 
the  ashes  of  their  houses  and  the  ashes  of  their  gods 
vanish  into  smoke.  Our  boys,  pretty  well  tired  out, 
soaking  with  water  and  covered  with  grime,  gradually 
found  their  way  homewards  to  tell  of  their  valour,  and  to 
receive  in  return  pious  lectures  from  their  parents  for 
the  dishonour  they  had  brought  upon  all  self-respecting 
Brahmans  and  their  own  families  in  particular,  while  some, 
no  doubt,  came  in  for  chastisement.  Nevertheless  seeds 
had  been  sown  that  day  in  their  inmost  souls  which 
would  never  have  got  there  had  it  been  left  to  the  class- 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

room  and  book.  However  persuasive  the  preaching,  or 
holy  the  book,  duty  to  one’s  neighbours  and  duty  towards 
God  is  most  certainly  not  learnt  practically  through  mouth 
and  ear  only.  “Faith  must  be  shown  by  works.”  Never 
was  a day’s  schooling  better  lost ; and  many  a school  day 
has  been  lost  since  then,  in  so  far  as  lectures  and  preach- 
ings are  concerned,  in  our  efforts  to  make  budding  bipeds 
into  such  men  as  we  believe  Almighty  God  wishes  them 
to  be. 

I recount  this  episode  at  some  length  as  it  was  one  of 
those  events  which  has  helped  to  make  history  in  this 
picturesque  but  dirty  city.  This  first  breaking  up  of 
a school  day  for  social  service  was  especially  pleasing  to 
me,  for  when  at  school  myself  in  the  seventies  I,  with 
a party  of  school-fellows,  was  standing  in  a similar  line 
passing  buckets  of  water  from  a horse-pond  to  a blazing 
farmyard,  holding  the  fort  till  the  fire-engine,  from  a town 
ten  miles  away,  should  arrive.  We  heard  the  school  bell 
ring,  plainly  enough,  and  those  of  us  who  preferred  social 
service  to  a master’s  wrath  stuck  to  the  buckets,  and 
when  the  engine  arrived  we  returned  to  school  to  be 
punished.  We  were  not  disappointed  in  this  matter. 

From  that  day  to  this  I have  always  considered  our 
punishment  an  error  of  judgment  on  the  part  of  the 
master,  and  was  therefore  glad  to  have  so  excellent  an 
opportunity  of  showing  my  belief  by  works. 

We  who  live  in  this  country  have  opportunities  pretty 
well  every  day  to  stir  the  blood  and  awaken  consciences 
to  the  life  of  service  for  our  fellow-men,  to  which  God 
calls  all  those  who  have  ears  to  hear  and  eyes  to  see. 
Those  who  live  in  Christian  countries  have  not  the  same 
golden  opportunities  as  we  have  who  live  in  non-Christian 
countries,  for  the  Christianity  of  centuries,  far  from  the 
ideal  as  it  certainly  has  been,  has  produced  men  and  not 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

bipeds.  For  it  may  be  within  a rough  or  perhaps  a 
haughty  exterior  there  is,  deep  down,  but  which  still  can 
be  reached,  that  innate  kindness  which  is  touched  by  weak- 
ness and  sends  through  the  veins  blood  red-hot  at  the 
sight  of  oppression  and  wrong,  and  always  champions  the 
weaker  side.  This  spirit  of  chivalry  comes  from  Christ, 
and  Christ  alone,  whatever  else  men  may  say. 

I am  not  talking  quite  through  my  hat,  for  before  I 
came  to  this  land  I had  had  two  strenuous  years  of  service 
amongst  the  poor  in  the  East  End  of  London,  under  the 
guidance  of  the  best  of  rectors,  the  Rev.  A.  J.  Robinson. 
Grand  times  they  were,  and  to  them  l always  look 
back  with  thankfulness.  While  there  I was  obliged  to 
know  something  of  fallen  humanity  in  doss-houses  and 
elsewhere;  but  among  these  poor  fallen  creatures  have  I 
seen  over  and  over  again  that  spirit  of  chivalry  which  at 
once  showed  that  there  was  hope  for  all  men,  and  though 
many  of  them  denied  the  existence  of  a God,  that  spirit 
of  chivalry  showed  me  that  they  still  possessed  a spark  of 
that  light  which  comes  from  the  God  whom  they  denied. 

True,  there  were  very  many  opportunities  of  service  in 
that  dark  corner  of  a Christian  country,  but  they  were 
nothing,  no,  nothing,  compared  with  needs  and  opportuni- 
ties here.  For  instance,  in  the  West  it  is  the  poor 
who  usually  steal  from  the  rich  and  strong,  but  in  the 
East  it  is  the  rich  who  squeeze  the  poor  and  helpless,  and 
yet  the  man  in  the  street  here  does  not  seem  to  notice 
that  there  is  anything  wrong  or  out  of  course. 

This  fact  struck  me  very  forcibly  before  I became 
accustomed  to  the  manners  and  customs  of  Srinagar 
citizens.  For  example,  in  the  winter-time,  when  the 
streets  are  covered  with  snow,  and  there  is  only  a one- 
man  path,  one  sees  the  women,  children  and  old  men 
all  being  shoved  out  into  the  snow  by  the  strong  and 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

opulent.  Again,  year  in  and  year  out,  one  sees  the 
women  struggling  up  the  steep,  broken  and  slimy  river 
ghats  with  the  heavy  earthenware  water-pots  ; and  again, 
as  one  watches  the  people  going  on  their  numerous 
pilgrimages  to  holy  shrines  in  the  country,  the  women 
are  the  beasts  of  burden,  toiling  the  many  weary  miles 
loaded  with  brass  cooking-pots  and  bedding,  whilst  the 
lord  and  master  swaggers  in  front,  every  now  and  then 
looking  behind  and  beckoning  to  his  spouse  to  hurry  up. 
All  these  and  many  other  evils  one  has  witnessed  daily, 
but  it  is  considered  to  be  quite  correct,  for  it  is  the 
custom  of  the  East.  It  wras  not  until  some  years  had 
passed  that  I learnt  of  far  greater  evils,  which  are  hidden 
from  sight,  the  early  marriage  system  and  many  other 
like  evils  that  the  women  suffer  uncomplainingly.  These 
plague  spots  can  only  be  tackled  by  women  ministering 
to  w'omen,  and  such  women  as  have  come  from  the  West, 
whose  love  and  sympathy  for  their  Eastern  sisters  enable 
them  so  to  devote  their  lives  to  them  that  nothing  can 
daunt  them  if  they  can  in  any  way  alleviate  suffering. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 


a kashmir  mission  school  ( continued ) 

I HAD  not  been  long  in  the  country  when  I discovered 
the  perils  our  boys  were  in  from  bands  of  immoral 
scoundrels.  I had  maps  of  the  city  on  which  I 
marked,  in  red,  places  of  “refuge”  for  the  hunted,  with 
a deliverer  in  the  person  of  a man  who  had  learnt  the 
noble  art  of  self-defence,  and,  by  the  way,  defence  of 
others,  who  on  call  would  come  to  the  rescue. 

These  maps  were  hung  up  in  each  of  the  schools  for  the 
boys  to  study.  So  far  so  good.  The  next  step  was  to  catch 
these  scoundrels  red-handed.  We  had  not  to  wait  long. 

On  a certain  afternoon  when  the  boys  were  leaving 
the  football  ground  in  the  outskirts  of  the  city  a gang  of 
these  scoundrels  came  down  upon  certain  boys  to  carry 
them  off.  Fortunately  some  of  the  staff  were  near  at 
hand  and  ran  in  to  the  rescue.  During  the  fight  which 
took  place  the  leader  of  the  gang  was  felled  and  secured, 
and  from  his  pocket  was  taken  a book  which  proved  to 
be  his  undoing,  for  it  wras  the  club’s  information  book. 
In  it  were  the  names  of  the  president,  secretary,  treasurer 
and  committee. 

Then  followed  the  names  of  170  of  the  pretty  boys  in 
the  city,  their  abode,  and  other  information  of  use  to  the 
gang,  but  on  this  occasion  it  proved  most  useful  for  our 
purpose,  w'hen  we  were  able  to  bring  the  criminals  to 
justice,  which  proved  to  be  a much  more  lengthy  and 
difficult  business  than  we  had  imagined,  as  we  had  yet 
to  learn  that  this  gang  had  strong  backers. 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

I myself  did  not  hear  of  this  little  scrap  until  I arrived 
at  the  school  next  morning,  when  I heard  of  the  haul, 
and  better  still  that  the  president  of  the  gang  was  in  the 
lock-up,  my  masters  having  handed  the  scoundrel  to  the 
police.  I at  once  rode  off  to  the  thana  (police  station) 
in  order  to  see  the  prisoner’s  face  and  to  know  that  he 
was  secure,  but  what  was  my  disgust  to  be  told  by  the 
police  officer  that  the  prisoner  had  escaped  in  the  night; 
nor  were  the  gentlemen  in  blue  able  to  trace  him.  We 
were  determined  to  have  this  scoundrel,  as  it  was  clear 
to  us  that  the  police  did  not  wish  to  help  us.  It  was 
a long  hunt  until  about  three  months  later,  during  another 
assault,  he  was  captured  and  handed  over  to  the  police  as 
it  was  evening-time.  My  men  no  doubt  thought  that  the 
police  would  not  dare  to  let  him  go  a second  time.  As 
before,  I was  not  told  of  the  catch  until  my  arrival  at 
school  next  morning,  when  I immediately  rode  off  to  the 
thana,  and  was  again  told  that  the  prisoner  had  escaped 
in  the  night.  This  news  was  decidedly  riling,  but  did 
not  disturb  us  as  much  as  people  not  accustomed  to  the 
East  and  its  ways  might  suppose.  It  only  made  us  more 
determined  to  get  the  better  of  all  concerned,  for  one  is 
bound  to  win  if  one  sticks  to  it.  Again  we  watched, 
waited  and  also  worked.  After  a month  or  two,  for  the 
third  time  the  scoundrel  fell  into  the  hands  of  my  fellows. 
It  was,  of  course,  after  dark,  so  for  the  third  time  he  was 
handed  over  for  safe  (?)  keeping  to  the  police. 

For  the  third  time  I ride  down  to  the  thana,  and  for 
the  third  time  hear  that  the  guardians  of  the  law  have 
again  been  outwitted,  for  the  prisoner  escaped  in  the 
night. 

I told  the  officer  that  I never  forgive  a third  offence, 
also  that  I knew  something  of  the  customs  of  Kashmir  in 
general  and  of  his  lot  in  particular.  It  was  now  ten 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

o’clock,  and  I gave  him  two  hours  only  in  which  to  re- 
capture the  escaped  prisoner,  saying  that  I would  be  back 
at  twelve  o’clock  punctually,  and  the  prisoner  must  be  in 
the  thana,  and  if  not  I would  ride  him  off  at  once  to  the 
British  Resident.  This  was  my  last  card,  which  I was 
loath  to  play,  as  one  hates  to  bother  hard-worked  and 
often  harassed  British  officials.  Of  course  the  officer  said 
that  I was  demanding  an  impossibility,  etc.,  etc.  But  I rode 
off  saying  that  at  twelve  o’clock  exactly  1 would  be  back. 
At  twelve  o’clock  to  the  tick  I was  at  the  thana';  the 
officer  met  me,  and  informed  me  that  he  had  been  success- 
ful and  that  the  prisoner  was  in  the  thana.  I asked  him 
on  what  charge  he  had  apprehended  him,  and  he  told  me 
that  his  men  had  caught  him  stealing  a tablecloth,  which 
amused  me  not  a little.  However,  the  charge  did  not 
matter  so  long  as  he  was  in  the  lock-up  on  a police- 
recognised  charge,  for  it  wrould  give  us  time  to  fix  him  up 
in  the  criminal  court  to  stand  his  trial. 

I will  not  pursue  the  story  further,  though  I’m  much 
tempted  to  do  so  because  of  the  comic  operas  that 
followed  one  another  so  quickly,  but  conclude  with  the 
fact  that  the  criminal  was  sentenced  to  tw'o  years’  im- 
prisonment with  hard  labour  (the  judge  said  that  he 
ought  to  have  given  him  seven  years),  and  his  accomplices 
received  lighter  sentences. 

When  the  prisoner’s  time  had  expired  he  came  to  me 
to  ask  for  forgiveness,  thanking  me  for  having  put  him  in 
prison,  and  asking  to  be  my  servant,  for  he  said  he  had, 
while  in  prison,  learnt  what  a beast  he  had  been. 

To  show  that  he  meant  it  he  has  from  that  time  to  this 
thrown  in  his  lot  with  us  in  fighting  this  evil.  His  knowledge 
and  his  help  have  been  most  valuable.  He  has  suffered 
much  in  consequence  from  those  wffio  were  his  former 
friends  and  backers  in  the  evil  life.  From  this  single 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

slight  peep  behind  the  scenes  those  who  are  interested  in 
true  education  in  India  may  realise  that  something  more 
is  needed  than  preparing  boys  for  examinations,  and 
that  the  noble  art  of  self-defence  is  really  an  art  worth 
teaching. 

I am  glad  to  say  that  matters  in  this  respect  have 
improved  in  this  city,  and  homes  of  refuge  are  no  longer 
needed  as  in  the  days  of  old. 

The  various  stages  attained  by  the  boys  in  their  up- 
ward growth  were  illuminating.  To  start  with,  none  of 
the  boys  would  touch  the  gloves;  they  lay  unused  for 
three  months,  because  Brahmans  may  not  touch  leather. 
However,  one  day  I saw  a Brahman  boy  wearing  a black 
beard  carrying  his  books  in  a leather  cover,  so  I exclaimed  ; 
“You  are  carrying  your  books  in  a leather  cover.  I 
thought  you  said  you  could  not  touch  boxing-gloves 
because  they  were  made  of  leather.”  “ Yes,  Sahib,  it  is 
true;  but,  you  see,  this  is  the  leather  of  books  and  that 
the  leather  of  boxing-gloves.”  That  day  we  commenced 
with  the  gloves,  and  the  black-bearded  youth  was  the 
first  to  lead  the  way. 

The  first  stage  produced  much  weeping,  the  gloves 
being  thrown  on  the  ground  and  the  boy  who  was  getting 
the  worst  of  it  running  away;  and  when  a nose  was 
tapped  and  claret  appeared  the  boxing  stopped  and  the 
onlookers  would  shout,  “ Oh  ! Oh  ! ” put  their  fingers  in 
their  mouths  and  suck  them  hard.  The  boy  who  was 
bleeding  would  cry  aloud  and  know  not  what  to  do,  as  he 
might  not  touch  blood,  even  his  own.  However,  the  ap- 
plication of  some  cold  water  soon  settled  the  trouble.  They 
usually,  if  not  always,  lost  their  tempers,  and  cried  much, 
and  wanted  to  finish  off  by  scratching  one  another’s  faces. 

Second  stage. — They  had  learnt  how  to  draw  their 
adversaries’  blood,  so  made  those  parts  their  objective; 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

the  more  they  succeeded  the  more  keen  they  became  to 
shed  more.  They  would  try  to  knock  their  adversary  on 
the  ground,  kneel  on  his  chest  and  punch  his  head,  the 
crowd  around  backing  up  the  winner  with  shouts  of  “ Give 
it  him  hard  ! ” “ Do  not  spare  him ! ” “ Thumbs  down  ! ” 

Third  stage , which  has  been  reached  but  has  taken 
many  years  of  attainment.  They  now  play  the  game, 
and  the  onlookers,  unless  the  weaker  one  is  unpopular, 
will  always  back  up  the  weaker  and  prefer  to  see  a well- 
matched  pair,  and  if  a boxer  plays  foul  they  will  shout 
at  him  to  play  the  game.  And  very  rarely  they  lose  their 
tempers,  even  when  receiving  punishment.  I regard 
boxing  as  one  of  the  quickest  means  for  attaining  that 
manly  and  sporting  spirit  which  is  needed  in  every  country, 
and  more  especially  in  this  lovely  country  of  Kashmir, 
where  self-respect  is  of  so  little  account.  I mean  by 
boxing  that  which  leads  to  chivalry,  and  not  brutality,  its 
use  and  not  its  misuse. 

In  the  matter  of  social  service  in  the  city  the  qualities 
that  have  been  attained  in  boxing  have  been  of  great  help 
already  to  the  oppressed,  and  especially  in  the  case  of 
ill-used  animals. 

I was  astonished  one  day  to  see  a curious  beast  come 
in  through  the  arched  gateway  of  the  school  playground. 
It  certainly  had  a donkey’s  head,  but  I could  not  make 
out  how  it  could  be  so  tall,  as  its  ears  touched  the  arch, 
and  as  it  moved  into  the  light  I saw  that  it  was  a man 
carrying  a donkey,  the  donkey’s  fore-legs  being  over  the 
man’s  shoulders.  However,  following  the  man-donkey 
came  in  my  headmaster,  a man  beloved  by  the  whole 
school  from  top  to  bottom,  and  respected  or  feared  as 
the  case  might  be  by  the  whole  city.  He  came  in 
roaring  with  laughter.  He  had  found  this  man  riding  a 
donkey  far  too  small  and  weak  for  his  weight,  so  he 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

thought  it  more  fitting  for  the  donkey  to  ride  the  man. 
I would  point  out  to  the  ignorant  that  a donkey  is 
considered  to  be  an  unclean  animal  by  Hindus,  so  for 
a Brahman  to  bother  himself  about  the  ill-treatment  of 
an  unclean  animal  shows  that  our  headmaster’s  education 
in  the  Mission  School  has  not  been  in  vain,  in  that  he 
believes  in  teaching  kindness  to  animals  by  action,  though 
the  victim  be  the  despised  donkey,  he  himself  leading  the 
way.  The  life  of  a donkey  in  this  land  is  not  an  enviable 
one.  It  is  the  usual  custom  to  put  loads  on  their  backs 
before  they  are  full  grown,  with  the  result  that  nearly 
every  donkey  in  this  country  possesses  bent  hind  legs,  the 
hocks  rubbing  each  other.  Then  they  suffer  from  continual 
sore  backs.  There  are  sores  at  the  various  places  where 
the  pack-ropes  grip  their  bodies.  No  one  seems  to  care, 
for  are  they  not  donkeys  ? 

In  the  winter-time,  when  it  happens  to  be  a severe  one, 
the  donkeys  in  the  town  as  well  as  those  in  the  villages 
near  the  city  are  let  loose  in  the  streets  to  find  their  own 
food  with  the  pariah  dogs.  The  owners  of  the  village 
donkeys  drive  their  animals  into  the  city,  because  there  is 
more  filth  there  than  in  the  villages.  They  have  told  me 
that  they  do  not  see  why  they  should  feed  them  in  the 
winter  as  they  are  not  doing  any  work.  So  one  is  con- 
tinually horrified  at  the  sight  of  these  scores  of  starving 
animals  wandering  about  the  streets,  nosing  about  in  the 
snow  for  filth. 

The  boys  took  up  the  matter  with  zest  as  soon  as  they 
were  told  that  they  could  bring  these  animals  to  school. 
Mohammedans  and  Hindus  went  out  together  to  bring 
them  in  from  the  streets.  The  Hindus,  not  being  able  by 
their  law  to  touch  an  unclean  donkey,  took  off  their  pagris, 
made  them  into  lassos,  threw  them  over  the  necks  of  the 
donkeys  and  pulled,  while  the  Mohammedan  boys,  who 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

might  touch  donkeys,  pushed  behind,  and  thus  it  came  to 
pass  that  the  school  playground  became  a donkey  asylum 
for  the  winter.  The  stall  and  boys  played  up,  and  brought 
food  every  day  and  fed  the  animals.  One  winter,  which 
was  an  especially  hard  one,  our  guests  all  through  the 
winter  numbered  too.  When  the  spring  came  the 
owners  came  to  claim  them,  but  we  would  not  give 
them  up  until  the  owners  had  paid  two  annas  per  day 
for  their  lodging.  To  this  they  objected,  but  as  pos- 
session is  nine-tenths  of  the  law'  we  stood  our  ground, 
and  w'hen  they  brought  the  law  to  bear  upon  us  we 
said  that  we  were  willing  to  go  to  prison  as  a protest 
against  this  continued  cruelty.  Later  on  the  State  added 
to  their  statute  book  a law  to  prevent  cruelty  to  animals, 
and  appointed  an  inspector  to  see  the  law  carried  out. 
So  quickly  did  the  law  take  effect  that  for  the  last  year 
or  two  our  boys  have  had  no  donkeys  or  other  animals 
to  feed  in  the  winter,  and  have  only  had  to  report  half-a- 
dozen  or  so  cases  of  cruelty  to  the  lawful  authorities — 
that  is,  in  the  city,  for  the  law  at  present  only  applies  to 
the  city  and  the  Jhelum  Valley  road,  where  Mr  W.  P. 
Appleford,  the  State  engineer,  sees  that  animals  are  not 
persecuted  in  his  domain. 

It  is  difficult  to  understand  the  attitude  of  Eastern 
people  towards  the  suffering  of  animals.  I saw  a man 
riding  along  the  main  road  on  a small  pony  with  its 
near  fore-leg  broken.  It  was  a compound  fracture : the 
bone  of  the  upper  part  of  the  leg  was  sticking  out 
through  the  skin,  and  the  lowrer  part  swinging,  as  the 
poor  beast  hopped  along.  The  rider  evidently  was 
happy,  for  he  was  whistling  as  he  rode.  To  me  the 
wonder  was  not  that  one  man  should  act  thus,  but  that 
from  among  the  numberless  people  he  must  have  passed 
not  one  of  them  had  taken  compassion  on  the  pony  and 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

knocked  the  cruel  beast  off  his  mount.  People  say 
when  the  citizens  are  educated  they  will  act  differently, 
but  I cannot  say  that  I have  found  that  the  educated 
are  any  more  humane  than  the  uneducated.  There  is 
something  wrong  somewhere,  and  it  is  the  business  of 
those  who  have  hearts  to  set  wrong  right. 

Kashmir,  being  a land  of  rivers,  lakes  and  canals,  lends 
itself  to  many  and  various  opportunities  of  social  service. 
Kashmiris  are  not  great  swimmers,  as  one  would  naturally 
expect,  so  that  many  lose  their  lives  from  drowning  dur- 
ing the  year.  Hence  we  soon  set  to  work  to  teach 
swimming. 

Unforeseen  difficulties  met  us  at  once,  for  parents 
strongly  objected.  The  Brahman  parents  said  that  their 
sons  were  gentlemen  and  therefore  must  not  demean 
themselves,  so  to  meet  their  case  l made  a law  that 
every  boy  must  pass  the  school  swimming  test  by  the 
age  of  thirteen,  unless  one  of  the  doctors  at  the  Mission 
Hospital  should  certify  to  physical  weakness  (for  I knew 
the  parents  could  get  round  their  Indian  doctors),  or  pay 
extra  fees  to  the  school  according  to  scale,  which  would 
start  with  quarter  fees  at  fourteen  years,  half  fees  at 
fifteen,  double  fees  at  sixteen,  quadruple  at  seventeen, 
and  so  on.  This  ruling  had  the  desired  effect,  so  that 
practically  every  boy  leaves  the  school  a swimmer,  and 
generally  a strong  swimmer.  Each  year  we  teach  on  an 
average  two  hundred  boys  to  swim : a hundred  will  swim 
the  Dal  Lake,  three  and  a half  miles;  about  twenty  will 
cross  the  Wular  Lake,  from  four  to  five  miles;  a few  will 
swim  seven  miles. 

The  result  has  far  exceeded  our  hopes  in  practical 
usefulness,  for  those  who  have  been  saved  from  drown- 
ing have  amounted  up  to  twenty  in  a year.  Some  of 
these  events  have  called  forth  great  pluck  and  prompt- 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

ness.  Then  a further  advantage  has  accrued  to  this 
country  through  the  schools’  activities.  Other  schools 
are  following  our  example  and  turning  out  swimmers, 
and  the  public  generally  have  learnt  that  gentlemen  may 
swim  without  losing  their  dignity. 

As  an  example:  a Chief  Minister’s  son,  an  under- 
graduate of  the  Lahore  University,  came  to  me  to  study 
English  before  going  to  Cambridge.  Finding  that  he 
could  not  swim,  1 told  him  I would  not  teach  him  English 
unless  he  learnt  to  sw'im. 

He  said  that  this  could  not  be  for  he  came  from  a 
noble  family. 

I asked  him  a straight  question.  If  he  happened  to  be 
walking  by  the  side  of  the  river  with  his  mother  (it  would 
have  to  be  after  dark,  of  course)  and  she  fell  in,  what 
would  he  do,  as  he  could  not  swim  ? “ Oh,  I w ould  call 
a coolie  and  send  him  in  after  her.”  I said : “ If  there 
did  not  happen  to  be  a coolie  near  at  hand  ? ” This  closed 
the  argument.  “ Anyw'ay,”  I said,  “ before  I teach 
you  English  you  must  first  come  to  the  lake  with  me,” 
and  we  commenced  forthwith.  We  wrere  cycling  to  the 
lake  when  he  called  out : “ My  cycle  is  punctured,  I cannot 
therefore  go  on  to  the  lake.”  I said  : “ No  matter,  we  will 
walk.”  And  w'alk  fast  we  did,  no  gentlemanly  pace,  that 
morning,  for  I knew  he  had  stuck  a pin  into  his  tyre. 

We  never  had  another  puncture,  and  the  Chief 
Minister’s  son  learnt  not  only  to  swim  but  to  row,  and 
eventually  was  in  one  of  his  college  eights  and  thankful 
that  he  could  say  that  he  was  a swimmer. 

In  the  matter  of  swimming  wTe  have  not  won  through 
yet  w'ith  the  parents,  for  in  all  the  big  swfims  wre  have, 
when  one  hundred  to  one  hundred  and  fifty  masters  and 
boys  will  be  swimming  the  lake,  I have  known  only  of 
twro  cases  wdien  parents  have  come  to  see  their  sons  swim, 

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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

One  of  them  was  a Christian  and  a soldier  who  needed 
no  pressure;  the  other  was  a Brahman  who  lived  quite 
close  to  the  water,  and  his  son  was  making  a very  plucky 
effort  to  swim  seven  miles.  He  managed  to  swim  only 
six  miles  that  day.  As  a matter  of  fact,  his  parent  had 
to  be  more  or  less  pulled  down  to  the  water  and  put 
into  a boat  to  accompany  his  son,  and  even  then  he  would 
look  only  at  me,  and  took  no  interest  in  his  son’s  efforts. 
And  when  at  the  end  the  boys  were  crowding  round  to 
congratulate  the  swimmer  the  father  came  up  to  me, 
having  first  ascertained  that  I w^as  in  a happy  frame  of 
mind,  and  therefore  it  was  an  auspicious  moment.  He 
then  informed  me  that  he  had  an  elder  son  who  was  out 
of  employment,  therefore,  as  his  younger  son  had  made 
me  happy,  would  I in  return  help  the  elder  son  to  obtain 
employment  in  a State  office.  Can  a leopard  ever  change 
his  spots,  or  an  Ethiopian  his  skin  ? 

This  letter,  written  by  a fond  parent,  may  showr  how 
some  superstitions  die  hard  : 

Most  respected  Sir, — I most  humbly  and  respectfully 
beg  to  bring  to  your  kind  notice  that  my  son,  Siri  Bhan, 
student  of  the  Lower  School,  is  strictly  prohibited  by 
astrologers,  who  have  examined  his  horoscope,  from 
joining  any  playing  party,  etc.  I would  request  you  to 
kindly  keep  him  exempt  from  joining  the  playing  teams 
and  boating,  etc.  I beg  to  remain,  etc.,  etc. 


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CHAPTER  XXIV 


a kashmir  mission  school  ( continued ) 

N OTHER  fact  may  seem  inconceivable  to  those 


who  do  not  know  the  Kashmiri — viz.  that  out 


of  the  many  instances  of  our  boys  having  saved 


life,  which  are  well  over  ioo,  I have  known  only  of  two 
cases  when  the  parents  or  relations  have  thanked  the 
boys,  and  only  one  case  where  a parent  tried  to  reward 
the  boy  for  his  brave  deed.  Anyway,  it  shows  that  the 
younger  generation  are  changing  their  spots,  for  they  are 
not  only  willing  to  risk  their  lives,  but  do  it  for  honour 
and  not  for  reward. 

Never  shall  I forget  on  that  memorable  day  in  the 
summer  of  1891  the  shock  I received  when,  having 
superintended  the  building  of  an  English  boat,  and 
rowing  it  down  to  the  school  with  the  idea  of  making 
oarsmen  of  the  boys,  I was  received  with  jeers  as  I rowred 
up  to  the  school.  Now  they  were  quite  convinced,  they 
said,  that  I wras  a low-caste  sahib,  for  only  a low'-caste 
man  would  handle  an  oar.  They  one  and  all  refused 
absolutely  to  have  anything  to  do  with  an  oar,  even  the 
school  staff  taking  the  same  attitude. 

Fortunately  my  will  proved  the  stronger,  and  so  did 
other  parts  of  my  body,  and  I commenced  teaching  the 
art  of  propelling  a boat  w ith  English  oars  that  very  day, 
and  my  pupils  were  two  of  the  unwilling  members  of  the 
staff".  A young  British  officer  who  had  been  watching 
my  efforts  some  weeks  later  said  : “You  will  never  teach 
these  Kashmiris  to  row.”  (They  were  at  that  time  still 


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A Kashmir  Mission  School 

dressed  in  nightgowns,  and  looked  an  amusing  crew.) 
“ Why  do  you  waste  your  time  ? ” 

A year  later  I was  coaching  a four-oar’d  crew  (they 
were  swinging  well  together,  but  not  dressed  in  night- 
gowns now),  when  another  young  officer  said : “ Of 

course  you  can  teach  them  to  row  English  fashion  for 
they  like  that,  but  you  will  never  get  them  into  their  own 
native  boats  nor  teach  them  to  paddle  like  the  common 
boatmen.” 

Some  years  later  I was  in  a Kashmiri  boat  being 
propelled  by  fifteen  Brahman  boys  with  paddles  like  the 
common  Kashmiri  boatmen,  and  a British  officer  said : 
“Yes,  it  is  easy  enough  to  get  them  to  do  this  for  it  is 
after  the  custom  of  their  country.”  I smiled  inwardly, 
for  as  a matter  of  fact  it  took  six  years  to  persuade  these 
Brahman  schoolboys  to  get  into  a Kashmiri  boat  and 
propel  it  with  Kashmiri  paddles,  and  when  they  made 
their  first  trip  they  covered  their  heads  with  blankets 
to  hide  their  identity  so  that  they  should  not  bring 
disgrace  upon  their  families. 

Time  cures  most  things,  and  the  Brahman  antipathy 
to  common  boatman’s  work  happened  to  be  among  the 
cures  that  time  effected,  so  that  every  week,  winter-time 
excepted,  the  school  holds  a regatta  in  which  over 
150  masters  and  boys  take  part,  and  crowds  of  boys  walk 
or  ride  two  or  three  miles  to  the  lake-side  to  watch  the 
crews  and  cheer  on  their  particular  classes  and  schools, 
while  the  school  band  plays  a selection  of  airs  during 
the  intervals,  and  plays  home  the  winners  with  plenty  of 
drum.  The  last  event  is  always  the  same : in  the  midst 
of  the  race  home,  at  a given  signal,  all  the  boats  sink. 
This  is  accomplished  by  the  crew  leaving  their  seats  and 
running  down  to  the  bows  of  the  boat : their  weight 
puts  the  bows  under  the  water,  the  stern  mounts  in  the 

3 00 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

air  and  the  boat  disappears,  leaving  the  crew  on  the 
surface  of  the  water.  When  the  boat  reappears  the  boys 
swim  to  their  respective  sides  and  bale  out  the  water  with 
one  hand  while  they  swim  alongside  until  it  is  fit  for  them 
to  climb  in  one  by  one.  The  rest  of  the  water  is  soon 
swished  out  with  their  paddles,  and  the  boys  paddle  their 
boat  to  the  winning-post.  As  soon  as  the  last  boat  comes 
home  the  band  strikes  up  the  two  national  anthems,  when 
all  the  crews  stand  up  with  paddles  and  oars  erect  and 
in  dead  silence  honour  their  King  Emperor  and  their 
Maharajah,  and  then  race  back  to  the  city. 

There  are  no  prizes  for  winners,  for  all  our  sports  and 
races  are  played  and  striven  for  for  honour.  We  have 
this  particular  sinking  race  to  prepare  boys  for  catas- 
trophes in  storms,  as  it  is  not  at  all  uncommon  for  boats 
to  be  swamped  in  squalls  on  the  lakes,  or  by  the  current 
in  the  rivers,  when  it  is  the  general  rule  for  boatmen  and 
passengers  to  lose  their  heads,  which  leads  to  the  usual 
loss  of  life. 

The  following  incident  may  show  how  the  boys  have 
learnt  to  be  cool  in  disaster  and  so  save  life. 

An  American  family  consisting  of  a husband,  wfife, 
governess  and  little  boy  were  travelling  to  their  camp  at 
night.  It  was  about  midnight  when  the  boat  capsized. 
The  American  party  were  asleep  at  the  time,  so  they  were 
all  taken  by  surprise.  The  father  grasped  his  little  boy, 
the  governess  grasped  the  boat  and  climbed  on  to  the 
upturned  keel,  to  which  also  the  boatmen  were  clinging. 
The  wife  was  washed  down-stream  and  would  have 
certainly  been  drowned  had  not  there  been  with  the 
party  one  of  our  boys,  who  immediately  swam  after  the 
lady,  grasped  her  firmly  and  swam  to  shore  with  her.  It 
all  happened  suddenly  and  in  the  dark,  so  that  a cool 
head  was  a very  necessary  asset.  The  boy  had 

3QI 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

always  done  well  at  our  weekly  upsettings,  hence  his 
smartness. 

Use  is  made  of  the  boats  in  various  ways.  It  has  been 
the  practice  now  for  some  years  to  use  the  school  boats 
for  the  sake  of  the  sick  in  the  city  and  hospitals.  The 
boys,  having  found  health  and  strength  by  their  athletic 
life,  wish  to  make  use  of  it  for  the  sake  of  those  who 
have  not. 

I wish  I could  have  photographed  a particular  scene  on 
that  beautiful  afternoon  in  June.  Allow  me  to  try  to 
describe  what  I saw.  As  I was  passing  a certain  village 
on  the  banks  of  the  lake  I heard  music  and  went  in 
search  of  it.  It  led  me  to  a boulder-strewn  landing-place 
where  a procession  was  forming,  the  school  drum  and 
fife  band  in  front,  with  a crowd  of  twenty-nine  bandaged 
and  sick  folk,  and  almost  fifty  boys,  forming  the  crews  of 
the  fleet,  who  had  just  returned  with  their  cargoes  of 
hospital  patients  from  a pleasant  afternoon  paddle  on  the 
lake,  the  band  discoursing  sweet  music  the  while.  Among 
this  interesting  crowd  was  a lame  man  with  white  bandages, 
supported  under  the  arms  by  two  boys  who  were  helping 
him  to  walk.  There  was  a strong  boy  with  another 
cripple  on  his  back.  There  were  men  with  bandaged 
eyes  being  led  by  others,  and  told  where  to  step,  guided 
past  holes  or  up  steps.  The  villagers,  of  course,  had 
flocked  out  of  their  houses  and  with  mouths  and  eyes 
wide  open  were  staring  in  wonder.  Some  were  laughing. 
Was  it  from  scorn  or  amusement  ? Mostly  the  latter,  I 
think.  Some  few  understood  the  scene  that  was  being 
enacted  before  their  eyes,  and  realised  that  this  school 
party,  which  was  for  the  most  part  composed  of  Brahmans, 
were  helping  Mohammedans.  I feel  sure  some  of  that 
crowd  will  never  forget  that  scene.  I certainly  shall  not. 

Now  why  do  these  boys  spend  many  of  their  afternoons 

302 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

with  the  sick,  striving  to  brighten  up  the  lives  of  those 
who  need  cheering?  Are  they  paid  for  it?  No. 

Is  it  done  to  win  my  approval?  Possibly  some  may  do 
so  for  this  reason. 

Is  it  done  because  it  is  part  of  the  Mission  School  effort  ? 
Yes,  partly.  There  are  no  doubt  many  mixed  motives, 
but  when  one  has  allowed  for  all  these  there  is  yet 
something  more. 

They  have  learnt  to  be  sorry  for  those  in  trouble. 
They  see  the  difference  between  their  school  spirit  and 
the  spirit  of  the  city.  They  have  realised  that  super- 
stition, ignorance  and  stupid  customs  have  drowned  the 
nobler  spirit.  They  realise  that  their  country  is  down 
and  needs  lifting,  and  they  will  have  their  try  at  changing 
everlasting  custom  and  the  like. 

Again,  there  are  others  who  go  deeper,  and  who  have 
perceived  that  the  daily  teachings  of  the  Gospel  need 
expression  in  life.  The  life  of  Christ  is  speaking  to  them ; 
it  appeals  to  them  as  it  does  to  all  men  in  all  nations  in  all 
times  who  have  ears  to  hear  and  eyes  to  see. 

Occasionally  we  have  great  floods.  They  happen 
when  we  have  exceptionally  heavy  rain,  which  brings 
down  the  melting  snow  in  the  summer  and  fills  up  the 
river  and  overflows  the  embankments,  when  the  country 
is  from  eight  feet  to  ten  feet  under  water.  It  all  happens 
very  quickly,  so  that  those  who  have  not  reached  high 
ground  are  on  the  roofs  of  houses  or  up  trees  crying  for 
help.  It  is  then  the  boatmen’s  harvest,  for  they  can 
demand  from  the  flood-stricken  what  they  like,  and  the 
price  of  boats  in  these  times  is  very  much  up.  At  such 
times  the  school  fleet  is  very  much  to  the  fore. 

Here  is  a coolie  up  a poplar-tree,  where  he  has  been 
standing  all  night,  and  a boatman  is  below  demanding  an 
exorbitant  amount  to  take  him  home,  when  up  comes  a 

3°3 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

school  boat  and  takes  the  man  home  free.  The  boatman 
curses.  There  is  a school  boat  out  on  the  search ; they 
are  led  by  the  cries  of  women  and  children  to  a row  of 
sweepers’  houses,  crowded  with  sweeper  families.  They 
have  seen  the  houses  around  them  disappear,  and  are  in 
terrible  dread  lest  their  row  of  huts  will  soon  disappear 
likewise.  They  have  cried  for  help  to  many  passing  boats, 
but  some  of  the  boats  had  Brahman  passengers,  who  do 
not  like  sweepers  as  near  neighbours,  and  other  boats  are 
out  for  more  moneyed  folk.  The  school  crew  is  proud 
to  rescue  them,  though  all  the  crew  are  Brahmans,  except 
the  cox,  who  is  a Mohammedan. 

One  of  the  school  staff  who  is  walking  towards  a 
sheet  of  water  sees  several  women  on  an  island  which  is 
gradually  growing  smaller  as  the  water  rises.  They  are 
imploring  a boatman  who  has  brought  his  boat  close  to 
the  island  to  allow  them  to  enter;  but  they  cannot,  for 
his  price  is  too  high.  The  school  teacher  calls  to  the 
man  to  take  the  women  in  his  boat,  but  he  will  not,  so 
the  master  immediately  dives  into  the  water  and  comes 
up  close  to  the  boat.  In  less  time  than  it  takes  to  write 
the  master  was  in  and  the  boatman  out  of  the  boat,  and 
the  master  ferried  the  women  to  a place  of  safety.  That 
man  had  not  learnt  athletics  for  nothing.  He  also  was  a 
Brahman. 

The  knowledge  of  boat-craft  has  come  in  handy  in 
many  varied  emergencies,  and  often  the  knowledge  of 
united  weight  at  the  right  time  and  place  has  been 
useful. 

An  English  lady  was  in  trouble,  and  she  came  to  us  for 
our  help  in  the  following  matter : — 

The  house-boat  in  which  she  lived  had  a rotten  plank 
in  the  flooring,  which  could  not  be  repaired  unless  the 
boat  could  be  taken  out  of  the  water.  She  tried  to  make 


3°4 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

arrangements  with  boatmen  for  hauling  her  big  house- 
boat out  of  the  river,  but  they  asked  an  exorbitant 
price,  so  she  appealed  to  us  for  aid.  The  masters  and 
boys  were  delighted  to  give  their  help. 

On  a certain  afternoon  one  hundred  of  our  strongest 
masters  and  boys  were  on  the  bank  of  the  river  and  close 
to  the  house-boat,  ready  to  lend  their  muscles.  Large 
beams  of  wood  had  been  placed  under  the  boat,  on  which 
she  could  slide.  Tackle  had  been  fastened  from  two 
large  poplar-trees  to  the  house-boat.  A strong  hawser 
had  been  passed  between  two  pulleys ; one  end  had  been 
fastened  to  the  boat  and  the  other  end  was  lying  loose  on 
the  top  of  the  bank  waiting  for  power  to  be  applied  to  it. 
At  the  word  of  command  one  hundred  masters  and  boys 
seized  the  rope.  At  the  words,  “ Are  you  ready  ? Go ! ” 
they  threw  their  weight  on  the  rope.  There  followed 
a loud  report,  as  that  from  a cannon,  and  the  one  hundred 
pullers  were  deposited  on  their  backs  on  the  ground. 
The  boatmen  who  had  asked  such  extortionate  wages  had 
come  to  watch  the  proceedings;  they  jeered  loudly  when 
they  saw  the  one  hundred  pullers  sprawling  on  the  ground. 
We  now  tied  two  hawsers  to  the  boat  and  put  fifty  men 
at  each  rope,  and  again  at  the  word  “ Go ! ” there  was 
a report  like  two  guns  and  the  one  hundred  were  again 
sprawding  on  the  ground.  The  lookers-on  were  quite 
delighted,  and  showed  their  delight  by  their  yells  and 
taunts.  The  ropes  were  mended,  and  twenty-five  men 
were  put  on  to  each  rope,  and  at  the  word  “ Go ! ” there 
was  no  report  this  time,  but  a squeaking  and  creaking 
noise,  and  we  saw  the  house-boat  sliding  up  the  beams. 
Then  came  our  turn  to  cheer,  for  the  school  had  won 
and  the  boatmen  were  defeated. 

I have  spoken  of  Srinagar  with  regard  to  its  suffering 
by  fires  and  floods,  but  there  is  another  trouble  which  is 

3°5 


u 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

more  dreaded  than  either — viz.  cholera,  which  always  visits 
Kashmir  in  epidemic  form  every  four  or  five  years.  It 
always  finds  the  city  ready  to  receive  it,  and  makes  full 
use  of  its  opportunities  of  taking  toll  from  the  inhabitants. 
The  epidemic  of  1902  was  my  first  experience  of  this 
terrible  visitation.  The  people  were  terribly  scared ; 
offices  and  schools  were  closed,  and  the  people  sat  in 
their  houses,  as  they  said,  waiting  to  die.  They  would 
only  take  the  medicine  of  their  “hakims” — i.e.  native 
doctors — or  trust  to  the  prayers  and  incantations  of  the 
priests.  The  priests  would  write  some  sacred  words  on 
pieces  of  paper  which  the  patients  would  swallow.  They 
would  take  no  precautions,  for  they  did  not  believe  they 
were  of  any  use.  You  would  see  a man  washing  in  the 
river  the  clothes  of  a relation  who  has  just  died  of 
cholera,  and  a few  feet  down-stream  a man  would  be 
drinking  the  water  of  the  river.  It  was  useless  remon- 
strating, for  your  words  had  no  meaning  to  them. 
Cholera  was  the  will  of  Allah,  or  of  the  gods,  what  had 
water  or  anything  else  to  do  with  it  ? Ten  thousand 
deaths  were  reported  in  the  city,  but  there  must  have 
been  hundreds  more  unreported. 

I am  thankful  to  say  that  superstition  and  ignorance  on 
this  matter  is  giving  way  before  education,  so  much  so 
that  our  masters  and  boys  are  welcomed  in  the  houses  of 
the  stricken,  and  they  will  take  from  us  the  medicine  of 
the  West,  so  that  in  the  last  epidemic  our  staff  and  boys 
saved  seventy-three  lives  out  of  the  hundred  and  three 
cases  they  took  up.  When  cholera  appears  in  the  city 
we  immediately  stock  bottles  of  medicine  in  the  schools. 
Masters  and  boys  come  on  duty  for  regular  watches  night 
and  day ; bicycles  and  lanterns  are  ready  so  that  they  may 
start  the  instant  the  call  comes,  for  in  cholera  it  is  all- 
important  to  reach  the  case  at  once,  for  all  may  be  over 

306 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

in  three  hours,  though  the  patient  generally  succumbs 
after  nine  or  twelve  hours. 

We  did  not  win  the  confidence  of  the  people  at  once, 
you  may  be  sure  ; it  has  taken  years  to  win  it.  Often 
the  parents  insisted  on  the  masters  drinking  the  medicine 
before  allowing  the  patient  to  touch  it.  One  master  had 
to  drink  so  much  medicine  in  this  way  that  he  had  to  go 
to  hospital  to  be  cured  of  the  cholera  cure. 

In  the  last  two  epidemics  we  have  used  the  simple 
remedy  of  permanganate  of  potash,  giving  the  patient  a 
drink  of  this,  and  as  much  of  it  as  he  can  manage  to  get 
down,  and  we  have  found  this  most  efficacious  so  long  as 
we  secured  the  patient  before  he  had  reached  the  second 
stage ; if  in  the  third  stage  we  called  for  medical  aid  and 
used  the  hypodermic  syringe. 

This  incident  may  show  how  keen  our  men  are  in  their 
self-imposed  tasks  of  fighting  the  cholera. 

One  of  the  staff  was  struck  down  with  cholera,  but  his 
parents  called  in  the  hakim  and  priests  to  use  their  arts, 
and  it  was  not  until  he  had  entered  the  third  stage  that 
the  parents  let  us  know.  At  once  our  men  were  at  the 
house ; they  had  divided  themselves  into  watches  two  and 
two  for  the  day  and  night. 

At  ten  p.m.  I visited  him,  and  found  four  of  our  party 
massaging  his  arms  and  legs,  for  he  was  in  great  pain 
from  cramp.  Seeing  that  he  was  in  extremis , I poured  a 
little  brandy  down  his  throat.  The  man  who  was  holding 
his  head  whispered  to  me  to  leave  the  room.  I thought 
he  asked  me  to  do  this  as  there  were  many  women  in 
the  room  and  they  objected  to  my  presence,  so  I left. 

Next  morning  early  the  same  man  came  to  tell  me 
that  our  friend  had  passed  away.  “When?”  I asked. 
“ At  the  moment  you  put  the  brandy  into  the  patient’s 
mouth.”  I asked  why  he  had  asked  me  to  leave  the 

3°7 


A Kashmir  Mission  School 

room,  and  why  he  did  not  tell  me  that  he  had  died. 
“ Because,”  said  he,  “ if  the  people  in  the  room  had 
thought  that  he  had  died  then  they  would  have  said 
that  you  had  poisoned  him ; and  also  we  did  not  wish 
the  women  to  know  that  he  was  dead,  for  women  can 
bear  bad  news  better  in  the  light  than  they  can  in  the 
darkness,  so  we  continued  massaging  the  corpse  all 
through  the  night,  until  the  morning,  and  then  when 
the  sun  arose  we  broke  the  news  to  them,  when  they 
would  be  better  able  to  bear  it.” 

We  can  employ  only  a restricted  number  of  masters 
and  boys  in  nursing  the  cholera-stricken,  but  we  can  make 
use  of  many  of  them  to  help  the  city  in  another  way. 

I mentioned  how  frightened  the  people  become  when 
cholera  visits  the  city;  this  is,  of  course,  bad,  as  fear 
predisposes  people  to  the  epidemic.  So  the  school  tries 
to  counteract  the  blues  by  attracting  their  attention. 
They  bring  their  boats  from  the  lake  to  the  river, 
and  have  races  up  and  down  the  river  in  the  middle  of 
the  city,  making  as  much  noise  as  they  possibly  can,  to 
show  the  people  that  they  at  any  rate  do  not  intend  to  die. 
Of  course  some  do  die,  but  their  places  are  filled  up  by 
those  who  live,  and  they  go  on  racing,  and  so  help  the 
people  to  transfer  their  thoughts  from  deaths  and  funeral 
pyres  to  young  life  enjoying  itself.  It  also  keeps  our 
boys  in  good  spirits,  and  thus  enables  them  to  cheer  up 
their  own  families. 

I expect  I have  already  wearied  my  readers  with  this 
account  of  education  in  action,  so  I will  spare  them  from 
further  talk  on  the  subject. 

Finally,  I end  with  the  school  motto,  which  has  proved 
an  inspiration  to  many,  and  is  the  Alpha  and  Omega  of  our 
teaching  and  aspirations  while  in  this  land  of  beauty  and 
humour. 


308 


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Copyright:  See/ey  Service  13  Co.,  Limited. 


KASHMIR 


THE  SCHOOL  MOTTO  & CREST 


By  the  term  Man  is  meant  one  who  combines  in 
his  nature  both  strength  and  kindness,  the  idea  of 
which  is  borne  out  by  the  crest.  The  paddle 
indicates  hard  work  or  strength,  and  the  heart- 
shaped  blade  betokens  kindness.  The  crossed 
paddles  express  self-sacrifice,  and  are  a reminder 
to  all  men  of  Him  who  taught  that  great  lesson, 
and  all  that  His  Cross  meant  to  the  world. 


INDEX 


Adgonand,  Raja,  68 

Afghan  coolies,  a rough  lot  of,  30 

Afghan  and  the  subaltern,  the,  1 5 1 

Afghans,  Kashmir  under  the,  26 

Ahmad  Shah  Durani,  74 

Akbar  the  Great,  72,  87 

Albruni  the  historian,  69 

Ali  Kadal,  1 16 

Ali  Shah,  71 

Amar  Nath,  146 

Amritsar  station,  1 8 

Anglo-Indians,  60 

Ankhor  tree,  the  poisonous,  54 

Appleford  and  the  Afghan,  3 1 

Asoka,  introducer  of  Buddhism,  69 

Athletics,  275 

Aurangzeb,  74 

Baramulla,  30,  36,  55,  192 
Barbers,  130 
Barges,  State,  90 
Barges,  the  building  of,  170 
Barr,  Col.  D.,  264 
Bathe,  an  uncomfortable,  201 
“ Batish,”  the,  133 
Batta  Mazir,  75 
Bears,  43 
Bedding,  1 7 
Beggars,  130 
Besant,  Mrs  Annie,  no 
Beyond  the  Pir  Punjal,  Dr  E. 
Neve’s,  248 

Bhishties  or  water-carriers,  22, 
107 

Bicycling  episodes,  1 2 1 
Birch  bark  for  roofs,  87 
Birds,  fortunate  and  unfortunate, 
158 

“ Black  art,”  the,  165 

Black  bear  and  carpenter,  the,  46 


Boat,  an  Oxford-built,  174 
Boat-building,  169 
Boat  club,  the  European,  173 
Boat  people,  morals  of  the,  96 
Boatmen,  94,  97 
Boats,  89,  92 
Boland,  Father,  84 
Brahman  carpenters,  261 
Brahman  clerk  in  his  home,  the,  1 43 
Brahman,  dress  of  the,  142 
Brahman  holy  man  or  Sadhu,  144 
Brahman  restrictions,  265 
Brahmani  sacred  bull,  the,  123 
Brahmans  at  prayer,  101 
Brahman’s  thread,  the,  140 
Brahman’s  toilet,  a,  139 
Brass  pots  of  the  Hindus,  101 
Bridges,  89 
British  and  natives,  20 
British  Resident,  the,  7 5 
Bud  Shad,  1 1 5 
Buddhism  in  Kashmir,  69 
Buffalo,  origin  of  the,  41 
Buffaloes,  41 
Bugle,  the  driver’s,  24 
Bulbul,  the,  1 58 
Bulbul  Shah,  70 
Burial  ceremonies,  163 
Burial  custom,  a curious,  203 
“ Burka,”  the,  1 50 
Burma  and  Kashmir  contrasted,  106 

Caravans,  207 
Caste  marks,  140 
Cataract,  operations  for,  232 
Cavalcade,  an  imposing,  219 
Central  Asia,  travellers  from,  134 
Ceremonial  ablutions,  10 1 
Champion  liars,  270 
“Chang”  or  beer,  210 

31° 


Index 


Chang  Chenmo,  203 
Children,  156 
Cholera,  63,  306 
Chowkidar  and  the  milk,  80 
Christian,  Capt.,  231 
C.M.S.,  the,  239 
C.M.S.  High  School,  no 
Clark,  Rev.  R.,  and  the  “ black 
art,”  165 

Complexion  of  Kashmiri  women,  60 
Consumption,  63 
Coolies,  20,  33,  82 
Copper  work,  1 33 
Coverdale,  Miss,  258 
Cow-killing,  penalties  for,  123 
Cremation,  160 
Cruelty  to  animals,  124 

Dailyas,  85 
Dal  Lake,  55,  85 
Dal,  an  unrehearsed  effect  on  the, 
1 76 

Damudhar  Udar,  1 59 
Danudar,  Raja,  69 
Death,  ceremonies  at,  156,  163 
Delivery,  ceremonies  before  and 
after,  153 

Demons,  exorcising,  167 
Dentists,  131 

Dhobi  or  washerman,  the,  104 
Dirty  habits  of  the  Kashmiris,  106 
Display,  love  of,  61 
Dogras,  the,  77 
Domel,  30 

Doongas  and  house-boats,  96 
Downes,  Dr  E.,  240 
Dras,  202 

Dress,  bright  colours  io,  141 
Dress  of  the  Brahman,  142 
Dress,  men’s  and  women’s,  138 
Dress,  picturesque,  at  Ladakh,  2 1 3 
Dudh  Ganga,  the,  187 
Duni  Chand,  Col.,  251 
Durga,  85 

Eagles,  190 
Eclipses,  1 59 


Egg  collecting,  190 
Elmslie,  Dr,  240 
Embroidery  work,  132 
Epidemics,  62 
Evil  eye,  the,  107 
Examinations,  256 
Expeditions,  182 

Family  life  in  winter,  64 
Fateh  Kadal,  113 
Fires,  88 
Fitze,  Miss,  259 
Flattery,  adepts  at,  143 
Fleas,  198 
Floods,  303 

Football  game,  the  first,  277 
Foul  language,  274 
Fruits,  56 

Gada  Bata,  rite  of,  68 
Gadhi,  76 

Games,  the  value  of,  268 
Ganger,  a dishonest,  3 1 
Ganges,  the,  157 
Genge,  Lieut.,  232 
Gharis,  21 

Ghat  or  yaribal,  the,  105 
Ghi,  42 

Ghost  in  a mosque,  story  of  a, 
117 

Ghusal  or  professional  washer,  162 
Gilgit,  55 

Gilgit  road,  forced  labour  on  the, 
236 

Girls,  the  education  of,  257 
Glacier,  crossing  a,  231 
Glacier,  at  the  foot  of  a,  224 
“ Gog  Sahib,”  260 
Graduates  and  State  appointments, 
2 59 

Grasping  officials,  241 
Grenfell,  Dr  W.,  246 
Griffith,  Padre,  23 
Gujars  or  cow-herds,  42 
Gulab  Singh,  Maharajah,  26,  75 
Gulmarg,  39 

3H 


Index 


Hadow,  Mr  C.  M.,  47 
Hangi  fights,  95 
Hanuman,  temple  of,  1 16 
Hari  Parbat,  85 
Hatti  bungalow,  34 
Hazrat  Bal  mosque,  113,  244 
Health  officer  and  Brahman  priest6, 
the,  63 

Heber,  Dr  and  Mrs,  223 
Hemis  monastery,  224 
Henna  ceremony,  the  154 
Himalayas,  the,  1 7 
Hindus  at  prayer,  101 
Horoscope,  the,  153 
Hospitality,  21 
House-boats,  178 
Houses  of  Srinagar,  87,  108,  132 
Humour  of  the  Kashmiris,  80 
Humour  and  tragedy,  135 
Huns  in  Kashmir,  69 

Id  Gah,  1 17 

Ill-treatment  of  animals,  294 
Immorality  of  the  river  people,  96 
Insanitary  conditions,  114 
Islamabad,  59 

Islamabad,  Mrs  Bishop’s  hospital 
at,  252 

Ismalia  the  boatman,  98 
Itch,  prevalence  of,  59 

Jackals,  52 
Jahangir,  72 
Jaluki,  Raja,  69 
Jhats  or  Sikh  farmers,  19 
Jhelum  river,  35,  84 
Joseph,  221 

Jumma  Musjid  mosque,  134 
Jummu,  75 

Kali  Ghat,  the,  1 14 
Kangri  or  fire-pot,  the,  139 
Kardang  Pass,  223 
Kargil,  203 

Karma,  the  law  of,  157 
Kashmir:  and  Afghans,  26; 

Sikhs,  26  ; Rajputs,  26  ; Gulab 

312 


Kashmir — continued 

Singh,  26 ; Ranbir  Singh,  26  ; 
Pratab  Singh,  26  ; views  in,  55  ; 
fruits  and  exports,  56;  industries, 
59»  1 1 5>  !32;  epidemics,  59, 
62,  248,  396 ; people,  60 ; 
women,  60,  101  ; sanitation, 

60;  Srinagar,  38,  83,  87; 
villages,  64 ; history,  67  ; geo- 
logy, 68  ; Huns,  69  ; Tartars, 
69;  Mohammedans,  69,  72, 
IOO,  234  ; religion,  69  ; Mogul, 
72  ; cession  to  England,  75  ; 
humour,  80,  135  ; character,  77  ; 
habits,  106,  1 14;  immorality, 
96  ; Rajas,  242  ; customs,  131, 
161,  203  ; Brahmans,  101,  139, 
142,  144,  265;  education,  151, 
253,  256,  259,  261 
“ Kashmiri,”  a term  of  abuse,  78 
Kashmiri  Sadhus,  149 
Kashmiri  women,  60 
Kashmiris,  the,  60 
Kawa  Punim,  rite  of,  68 
Kechi  Mavas,  rite  of,  68 
Kennard,  Mr,  178 
Khos,  75 
Kinaras,  17 1 

Kindergarten  system,  261 
Kishen  Ganga,  the,  29 
Kites,  daring,  123 
Knowles,  Rev.  J.  H.,  260,  263 
Kohala,  26 

Konsar  Nag  Lake,  191 
Kotitirtha,  56 

Lacustrine  deposits,  68 
Ladakh,  215 
Lamayuru,  216 
Landslips,  32 
Lawrence,  Lord  J.,  84 
Lawrence,  Sir  W.,  80 
Legends  and  traditions,  67 
Leh,  218 

Leper  hospital,  248 
Lepers,  129 
Leprosy,  248 


Index 


Liquor  shops,  127 
Locusts,  22 
Lunatics,  129 
Lynx,  the,  52 

M'Cormick,  Miss  Lucy,  243 
Maha  Ganisha,  the  elephant  god, 
86 

Maha  Shri,  temple  of,  I 1 5 
Maharajah  Gulab  Singh,  87 
Maharajah  of  Kashmir,  generosity 
of  the,  2 5 1 

Maharajahs,  attitude  of  the,  242 
Maharajah’s  temple,  the,  109 
Mahmud  of  Ghuzni,  69 
Mahseer,  the,  57 
Mail  runners’  shelter,  200 
Maina,  the,  85 
Malodorous  river,  the,  106 
Manisbal  Lake,  184 
Margs,  39 
Marmots,  231 

Marriage  middleman,  the,  161 
Marriages,  arrangement  of,  155,  161 
Marsa  Lake,  186 
Marx,  Dr,  222 
Massage  among  coolies,  65 
Mastiffs,  savage,  228 
Match-maker,  or  marriage  go- 
between,  131 
Maxwell,  Dr  T.,  240 
Maypole  dance,  a,  208 
Medal,  a Brahman’s  fateful,  140 
Medical  aid  in  Kashmir,  251 
Mehrakula  the  Hun  king,  69 
Middleman,  the  marriage,  161 
Milkmen,  134 

Mir  Sayid  Ali  of  Hamdan,  1 1 3 
Mission  Hospital,  the,  84,  244 
Mission  at  Leh,  the,  222 
Mitchell,  Mr  W.,  40 
Mogul  Subadars,  74 
Mohammedan  invasions,  69 
Mohammedan  kings,  oppression  of 
the,  72 

Mohammedans,  oppression  of,  by 
Hindus,  234 


Monasteries  and  lamas,  21 1 
Monastery  band,  a,  210 
Monastery  of  Lamayuru,  216 
Monkeys,  Himalayan,  52 
Monks  and  nuns,  218 
Mos  Deen  Khan,  story  of,  235 
Mosques  and  temples  of  Srinagar, 
84 

Mosquitoes,  57 
Mountain  dwellers,  65 
Mountain  road,  story  of  a,  29 
Mourners,  professional,  161 
Mulbek  monastery,  208 
Mullah  Khan,  74 
Munshi,  the,  61 
Munshi  Bagh,  the,  84 
Murree,  26 

Mussulman  at  prayer,  the,  100 
Mussuth  band,  74 

Nadir  Shah,  74 
Nanga  Parbat,  41 
Naseem  Bagh,  58 
Nawa  Kadal,  1 16 
Nedou  & Sons,  40 
Nestorian  Christians,  2 1 3 
Neve,  Dr,  146,  197 
Neve,  Dr  A.,  241,  248 
Neve,  Dr  E.  F.,  242 
Neve,  Miss  Nora,  243 
Newman,  Miss,  197,  252 
Nicholson,  Gen.  J.,  84 
Nisbet,  Col.  Parry, and  the  mountain 
road,  27,  29 
Nur  Jahan,  1 1 5 

Officers  and  panther,  58 
Oppressed  people,  an,  79 
Oppression,  native,  20 
Ordeal  by  battle,  272 

Paddles,  stolen,  178 
Pagodas,  212 
Pagri,  the  uses  of  a,  137 
Pandits,  72 

Pang  Gong  Lake,  203 
Panthers,  47 

3L3 


Index 


Paper  making,  introduction  of,  72 
Pariah  dogs,  124 
Pathans,  31 

Patthar  Masjid  mosque,  1 1 5 
Pestle  and  mortar,  the  family,  65 
Petrie,  Miss  Irene,  223 
“ Pheron,”  the,  138 
Physique  of  Kashmiri,  62 
Pigs,  wild,  5 1 
Pine-martens,  52 
Pipe,  an  improvised,  230 
Pir  Punjal  Mts,  84 
“ Pirak,”  a,  2 14 
Play,  a religious,  225 
Policemen,  18 
Political  Officer,  the,  27 
Polo,  210 
Polo  at  Leh,  220 
Polyandry,  224 
Ponies,  cruelty  to,  28 
Poonch  state,  the,  78 
Pratab  Singh,  Maharajah  Sir,  27, 
75 

Pravarasena,  86 
Prayer  flags,  2 1 2 
Prayers,  99 
Praying  wheels,  212 
Prideaux,  Colonel,  27 
Public  examinations,  candidates  for, 
I51 

Qazi,  161 
Qutub-ud-Din,  70 

Racing  eight,  a,  176 
Railway  carriages,  1 8 
Railway  passengers,  native,  19 
“ Raja  Kat,”  the,  1 58 
Raja  Sandiman,  83 
Raja  Sir  Amar  Singh,  256 
Rajas  of  Kashmir,  68 
Rajputs,  Kashmir  under  the,  26 
Ram  Chand,  a holy  man,  147 
Ranbir  Singh, 'Maharajah,  27 
Ranjit  Singh,  75 
Rawal  Pindi,  18 
Rice,  husking,  65 


Rites  and  ceremonies,  68 
River  scenes,  92 
Red  beards,  120 
Redslop,  Dr,  222 
“ Refuges,”  289 

Religious  rites  and  ceremonies,  68 
Renchan  Shah,  69 
Rest-houses,  200 
Robinson,  Rev.  A.  J.,  287 
Roofs,  87 
Rope  bridges,  3 5 
Rowing,  299 
Russia,  menace  of,  30 

Saddles,  132 
Sadhu,  a chivalrous,  149 
Sadhu  and  the  Mission  School, 
148 

Sadhus,  146 
SafFa  Kadal,  1 16 

Sakhi  Muni  Gaotam,  or  Buddha, 
6 9 

Sangi  Safed,  187 
Sartorius,  Colonel,  173 
Schools,  indigenous,  253 
Servants,  the  custom  of,  229 
Shah  Hamdan,  70 
Shah  Hamdan,  mosque  of,  113 
Shah  Jahan,  74 
Sharika,  the  hill  of,  86 
Shawl  industry,  the,  1 1 5 
Shawl  weavers,  pitiable  condition 
of,  238 

Shawl  weaving,  introduction  of,  72 
Sheep  as  carriers,  207 
Sheikh  Bagh,  the,  84 
Shergol  monastery,  230 
Shikara,  the,  89 
Shops,  126 

Shroud  for  the  dead,  163 
Sikh  fort,  the,  85 
Sikhs,  the,  and  Kashmir,  26 
Sindh  Valley,  the,  197 
Single-sticks  for  healing  divisions, 
^ 273 

Small-pox,  62,5132 
Snakes,  198 

3M 


Index 


“Sneaking,”  272 

Sneezing,  superstition  about,  1 58 

Snow-clad  mountains,  133 

Social  service,  280 

Sona  Marg,  198 

Sopor,  38,  57 

Spedding,  Mr,  contractor,  30 

Srinagar,  38,  83,  87 

Staff,  the  school,  262 

Stages  in  the  boys’  education,  292 

Stamps,  Kashmiri,  91 

State  schools,  255 

Storrs,  Rev.  W.  J.,238 

Street  episodes,  annoying,  1 19 

Sulphur  springs,  59 

Sundri,  our  pet  monkey,  53 

Superstitions,  158,  167 

Suru,  R.,  230 

Swimming,  296 

“Taffy,”  i i i 
Takht-i-Suliman,  83 
Tamerlane  and  the  poor  man,  70 
Tarsa  Lake,  186 
Tartars,  invasion  by,  69 
Tati  Kuti,  188 
Tears  and  laughter,  247 
Technical  school,  256 
Telegraph  Office,  State,  90 
Temperance  Society,  a,  127 
Textile  industries,  59 
Thirty  Tears  in  Kashmir , Dr 

Neve’s,  236 

Thorp,  Lieut.  R.,  234,  239 
Thread  ceremony,  the,  1 54 
Tibetan  Buddhists,  213 
Timber,  56 

Tollman  and  bicycle,  the,  27 

Tonga,  the,  23 

Trade  marks  on  clothes,  141 


Transmigration,  theories  about,  15" 
Trees  in  Leh,  220 
Trench,  Capt.  C.,  197,  203 
Trips,  the  value  of,  187 
Turban  as  a sign  of  vocation,  137 
Typhoid,  63 

Uniformed  robbers,  135 

Vaccination  and  small-pox,  158 
Valleys  of  Kashmir,  29 
“Van,”  16 1 
Varaha,  temple  of,  56 
Varamul  or  Baramulla,  56 
Vaughan,  Dr  Janet,  252 
Villages,  64 
Vishnu,  56 

Wade,  Rev.  T.  R., and  the  “black 
art,”  165,  240 
Ward  wan  Valley,  232 
Water-carriers,  women  as,  107 
Wedding  parties,  boatmen’s,  1 18 
Weddings  and  wedding  feasts,  155 
Well  and  the  horse,  the,  25 
Wives,  duties  of,  156 
Woodwork,  59 

Woman’s  place  in  Hinduism,  101 
Women  of  Ladakh,  status  of  the, 
214 

Wular  Lake,  38,  57,  192 

Yadhus,  the,  69 
Yarkandi,  Serai,  1 17 

Zain-ul-Abidin,  72 
Zana  Kadal,  115 
Zenana  Hospital,  252 
Ziarats  or  shrines,  86 
Zoji  La,  199 


315 


Printed  by 

The  Riverside  Press  Limited,  Edinburgh 


1922 


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